K)  ' ^- 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

PROFESSOR 
GEORGE  R.  STEWART 


J^^ 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/dunbarsconnpletehOOdunbrich 


DUNBAR'S 


COMPLETE 


Handbook  of  Etiquette 


Clear  and  Concise  Directions  for  Correct  I^Ianners, 

Conversation,  Letters  of  Introduction,  Dinner 

Parties,  Visiting,    Tratelling,    Dancing, 

Dress,  Table-Talk,  Anecdote,  Bridal 

Etiquette,   Etc.,  Etc. 


By  M.  O.  DUNBAR 


TTew  York  : 


EXCELSIOR     PUBLISHINO     HOUSE, 
*9  AND  31  Beekman  Street. 


COFTRIGHT,  1884. 

BY 

EXCELSIOR  PUBLISHING  HOUSE. 


PREFACE. 


This  little  work  goes  forth  with  only  one  purpose,  to 
be  a  useful  and  reliable  hand-book  on  the  present  Laws 
and  Usages  of  Polite  Society.  And  we  hope  and  be- 
lieve that  it  will  be  found  in  all  respects  a  trusty  and 
pleasant  friend. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

Introduction 7 

Bodily  Deportment 21 

Position  of  the  Body  ...    22 

The  Head 22 

The  Tongue 23 

The  Hand 24 

The  Etiquette  of  Conversation 64 

Prudence  in  Conversation 66 

Useful  Hints  for  Conversation 72 

The  Topics  of  Conversation 94 

Good  Taste 25 

The  Manner  of  Speaking 27 

Speak  Grammatically 29 

Egotism  32 

Memory 32 

Truth 33 

The  Splendid  Speaker 33 

Self-Respect 35 

Modesty 36 

Boldness 37 

Forwardness 38 

Diffidence 39 

Civihtv 39 

Attention 40 

Large  Talk  and  Small  Talk 41 

Anecdote 43 

Punning '  • .  44 

Laughter 45 

Table  Talk 47 


6  CONTENTS. 

After  Dinner 49 

Accomplishments 50 

Pedantry 53 

Social  Characters 58 

The  Ladies 61 

How  to  Dress 62 

Dancing 63 

Letters  of  Introduction 108 

Dinner  Parties 138 

Visiting 124 

Travelling 106 

Marriage  Ceremony  and  Reception  Note 113 

Marriage  Announcement 117 

Bridal  Etiquette 175 

Familiar  Notes 115 

Golden  Wedding 118 

Anniversary  Weddings 119 

Invitations 119 

The  Ball 130 

Etiquette  for  Funerals 182 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  rules  of  etiquette  are  not  always  arbitrary  decrees 
but  have  their  foundation,  like  true  politeness,  in  Chris- 
tian principle.  Consideration  for  the  feeling  of  others, 
is  the  mainspring  of  the  machinery  of  society.  There 
is  certainly  nothing  which  adds  more  grace  to  charac- 
ter than  these  bien-seances  of  politeness.  The  defer- 
ence to  age,  the  courtesy  to  women,  the  respect  to 
equals  and  inferiors,  the  little  thoughtful  acts  that  put 
one  at  his  ease,  the  deferential  listening  while  another 
speaks,  the  patience  with  the  loud  and  wearisonje  talker, 
and  a  hundred  other  courtesies,  done  simply  and  with- 
out ostentation,  naturally  flow  from  the  source  of  social 
happiness, — an  unselfish  spirit. 

To  give  some  examples  :  Do  not  press  forward  to 
select  for  yourself  the  best  place  at  a  public  entertain- 
ment, nor  proclaim  with  corrugated  brow  and  loud 
whisper  your  disapprobation  of  a  more  successful 
pusher.  At  table,  do  not  express  your  dislike  of  food, 
nor  imperil  your  reputation  by  pretending  to  be  fond 
of  every  dish.  Eat  quietly  a  little  and  criticise  not,  as 
that  pretty  baby  creature  did  whom  Wilson  had  in- 
vited to  dinner.  She  was  helped  to  something  that  she 
evidently  did  not  like,  but  she  picked  up  her  fork  and 
separated  a  rporsel  and  put  it  in  her  mouth.     The  host- 


8  INTRODUCTION.      ^^ 

ess  soon  discovered  that  the  little  lady  did  not  enjoy 
the  food,  so  she  had  the  plate  changed  and  something 
else  substituted.  Not  a  word  was  spc^n  referring  to 
the  effort.  The  training  of  the  little  woman  by  her 
lady  mother  had  begun  early.  ♦ 

Always  answer  a  note  or  acknowledge  a  courteous 
act  immediately  on  reception.  It  would  be  rudeness 
for  you  to  be  silent  if  one  addressed  you  by  speech ;  it 
is  just  as  rude  not  to  reply  to  a  note  or  invitation,  or 
on  receiving  a  favor  or  a  present.  And  never  omit  after 
a  visit  of  any  length  to  advise  your  entertainers  of  your 
safe  arrival  at  your  destination,  and  convey  your 
thanks  for  their  hospitality. 

We  recall  an  instance  in  which  a  person  was  mis- 
judged for  years,  because  she  had  negkcted  to  ac- 
knowledge the  receipt  of  *  a  present.  A  oeloved  old 
lady,  who  was  herself  a  model  of  good  breeding,  tak- 
ing a  fancy  to  a  young  girl  who  was  almost  a  stranger 
to  her,  had  sent  as  a  small  remembrance  a  wedding  pres- 
ent of  a  prayer-book.  The  old  lady  never  received 
one  word  of  acknowledgment,  and  put  down  the  neg- 
lect to  her  usual  horror — "  Young  America  !  "  I  often 
heard  her  say,  "that  girl  did  not  care  a  straw  for  the 
book  I  sent  her  !  "  Years  after  the  dear  old  lady  had 
I'eft  us  forever,  I  became  intimate  at  the  house  of  the 
young  girl,  now  a  mother  of  a  family,  and  on  her  book- 
rack,  hunting  for  a  volume  one  day,  I  came  across  this 
prayer-book,  worn  with  constant  use.  "  Do  you  know 
that  book  ? "  asked  she  ;  "  I  think  more  of  it  than  of  any 

other.     Dear  Mrs.  ■ gave  it  to  me,  and  I  was  so 

touched  by  her  remembrance  of  me.  So  lovely  in  her ! 
I  have  used  it  ever  since  for  my  own  private  prayers  I  " 


^P      INTRODUCTION.  9 

A  few  words  of  acknowledgment  with  her  warm  thanks 
would  have  pleased  the  giver  and  saved  the  recipient 
from  many  yeaB^of  false  judgment. 

Sometimes  we  are  impolite  from  thoughtlessness, 
oftener  from  bajlifulness  f  but  if,  our  courtesy  is  based 
gjX  thg  broad  rbristian  GplderLRuJ^j  we  shall  never  for- 
get^ and  we  shall  coji^uer  our  timidity  by  the^fstronger - 
principle |Of  d^JX;  -Polish,  to  be  sure,  may  be  used  as  a 
cover  to  gloss  vice,  but  this  being  merely  superficial 
must  always  be  shallow  and  easily  seen  through,  and 
if  beneath  it  there  appears  no  sterling  substance,  the 
judicious  observer  can  have  only  one  impression  forced 
upon  his  mind,  and  that  cannot  be  favorable  to  a 
vicious  man,  however  polished  he  be. 

Now,  sir,  Jhe  first  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  make  your- 
self a  man.* Manliness  is  the  backbone  of  our  nature. 
All  other  qualities  distribute  themselves  round  this. 
Man  means  thinker,  so  that  to  be  a  man  you  must  be 
able  to  think,  and  to  prove  and  steady  your  thoughts  by 
bringing  them  in  contact  with  the  thoughts  of  others 
through  reading  and  conversation.  Besides  having  a 
good  sound  head,  your  heart  must  also  be  "  in  the  right 
place."  And  I  can  wish  your  heart  no  healthier  beat 
than  that  caused  by  the  pure  blood  of  Christianity.  A 
thoroughly  Christian  man  cannot  but  be  the  best  mate- 
rial out  of  which  to  form  the  thoroughly  polite  man. 
Remember  we  are  exceedingly  anxious  to  avoid  any- 
thing like  false  polish.  The  saying  is  common  but  very 
true,  "  All  is  not  gold  that  glitters."  This  may  suggest 
as  true  a  saying,  "  All  that  shines  in  society  does  not 
necessarily  shine  to  please." 

If  then  true  and  thorough  thinkmg  be  the  generator 


lO  INTRODUCTION. 

of  true  manliness,  let  us  devote  our  attention  in  the  first 
place  to  Thought  and  Thinking. 

It  is  evident  the  most  illiterate  can  think.  Thinking, 
in  fact,  is  the  very  intelligence  of  a  man — the  difference 
which  distinguishes  him  from  the  brute  creation. 
Through  this  power  of  thinking  the  most  illiterate  can 
become  not  only  literate  or  learned,  but  also  producers 
of  thought  themselves.  It  is  thinking  and  not  learning 
merely  that  improves  our  mind  and  leads  us  on  to  dis- 
tinction. "  A  grain  of  reason  is  worth  a  ton  of  mem- 
ory." Still,  the  acquisition  of  thought  elaborated  by 
others  is  absolutely  necessary,  and  if  a  man  is  not  "  well 
read  "  he  is  not  up  to  the  mark  of  what  is  considered 
good  society.  The  fact  is,  we  must  be  scholars,  though 
not  in  the  old  pedantic  sense  of  the  term.  Some  folks* 
idea  of  a  scholar  is  one  who  has  so  many  thoughts 
belonging  to  other  people  stored  away  in  his  mind  that 
he  has  no  room  for  any  of  his  own,  or  one  who  can  ap- 
pend a  scholar's  title  to  the  end  of  his  name.  As  to 
the  first,  he  need  not  be  a  scholar  merely,  and  as  to  the 
second,  we  would  no  more  inculcate  blind  admiration 
for  the  scholastic  titles  than  for  the  social  ones,  but 
would  advise  rather  the  title  to  be  weighed  by  the  man 
than  the  man  by  the  title.  To  every  right  thinking 
person  the  most  distinguished  man  is  he  who  leads  the 
most  divine  life,  and  the  man  that  leads  the  divine  life 
is  the  man  who  by  honest  searching  finds  out  the  divine 
ideas,  appropriates  them  through  the  alembic  of  his 
mind  as  thought,  and  gives  an  earnest  of  his  conviction 
in  fervent  action.     For  this  high  purpose 

*^  All  the  world's  a  school, 
And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  scholars." 


INTRODUCTION.  I  I 

There  are  books  in  the  running  brooks,  and  in  stones, 
not  sermons  merely,  but  a  great  material  revelation  of 
the  Creator's  handiwork  with  myriads  of  His  ideas 
stamped  upon  it  in  splendid  hieroglyphics.  Words- 
worth truly  says  what  St.  Bernard  indeed  said  long  ago 
in  another  form  : — 

"  An  impulse  from  a  vernal  wood 
Will  teach  you  more  of  man, 
Of  moral  evil  and  of  good, 
Than  all  the  sages  can." 

Books  contain  what  our  predecessors  have  learned  in 
this  great  school,  and  from  these  we  obtain  what  we 
require  for  the  furnishing  of  our  minds.  The  school- 
ing of  a  man  ambitious  of  distinguishing  himself  is 
never  finished.  He  is  always  learning,  and  all  things 
minister  to  his  purpose.  But  he  makes  use  of  that 
chiefly  which  man  has  mastered  and  made  his  own,  and 
transported  to  the  world  of  thought.  This  world  of 
thought  is  to  be  found  chiefly  in  books,  and 

"  Books,  we  know, 
Are  a  substantial  world,  both  pure  and  good.** 

So  felt  the  wise  and  thoughtful  Wordsworth,  and  so 
feels  every  man  who  has  built  for  himself  a  habitation 
in  the  wonderful  world  of  books.  But  all  locations  are 
not  adapted  for  men  in  general.  Mental  habits  and 
tastes  differ,  and  so  a  location  wherein  one  man  may 
flourish  another  may  starve.  Special  tastes  affect 
special  settlements. 

But  there  is  a  district  in  which  all  men  have  a  com- 
mon, a  radical,  a  necessary  interest.     It  is  that  which 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

we  denote, par  excellence,  ''Literature."  We  mean  the 
literature  of  humanity,  as  contradistinguished  from  the 
special  literatures  of  particular  sciences. 

Layer  after  layer  of  thought  has  been  deposited  by 
busy  workers  since  time  and  thought  began  to  exist, 
and  we  of  the  present  day  form  o^r  soils  and  grow  our 
thoughts  on  the  strata  of  the  past. 

The  student  of  this  literature  does  not  study  it 
merely  as  an  amusement,  or  as  an  accomplishment,  or 
as  a  means  of  winning  his  bread,  but  as  a  revelation  of 
thought  and  feeling,  which  through  faith  in  the  true 
and  the  good  elevates  him  to  a  higher  stage  of  being. 
There  have  been  men  who  have  groaned  under  the 
weight  and  mystery  of  thought  as  under  a  curse ;  who 
having  yearned  for  a  hold  upon  the  Infinite,  have  been 
thrust  down  by  a  withering  negation  of  their  hopes 
sinking  in  a  not  unaccountable  recoil  from  their  over- 
ambitious  height  to  the  lowest  depth  of  loathing  for 
that  which,  legitimately  used,  is  man's  distinctive  glory. 
But  such  a  man,  "  burthened  with  the  weight  of 
thought "  to  such  an  issue  is  rare,  and  need  not  deter 
the  student  from  risking  the  darling  beliefs  of  his  heart 
in  this  pure  human  atmosphere.  The  same  benignant 
sun  shines  here  as  in  the  world  of  thought  and  feeling 
and  eternal  providence  revealed  in  Holy  Writ.  But 
there  is  more  needed  than  books,  and  the  reading,  and 
the  understanding,  and  the  proper  use  of  them.  There 
are  the  powers  of  the  will  as  well  as  those  of  the  un- 
derstanding to  be  exercised.  The  impulse  to  action 
must  be  trained  and  put  under  proper  control.  Man 
is  an  ethical  as  well  as  a  logical  being,  and  indeed  it  is 
this  aspect  of  him  which  is  chiefly  presented  to  the 


INTRODUCTION.  1 3 

public  eye.  The  manner  in  which  a  person  acts  is  at 
once  seen  and  criticised,  while  the  reason  or  motive 
of  action  is  not  so  immediately  apparent. 

But  this  logical  and  ethical  being  works  through  an 
organized  physical  being,  upon  the  sound  and  healthy 
condition  of  which  lat]:er  the  degree  and  the  quality  of 
power  in  the  former  in  a  very  great  measure  depend. 
The  human  body  is  a  living  structure,  within  which  the 
vital  functions  are  unceasingly  performed  by  the  organs 
of  life,  in  obedience  to  physical  laws,  the  action  of 
which  we  can  regulate  so  as  to  give  the  whole  system 
the  greatest  possible  amount  of  active  vigor  and  power. 
This  it  is  the  duty  of  every  person  to  become  ac- 
quainted with.  Every  one  should  know  and  obey  the 
physical  as  well  as  the  moral  commands  of  God ;  and 
if  he  disobey  them,  he  commits  a  physical  sin  which 
carries  its  own  punishment  with  it.  Excess  in  eating 
or  drinking,  improper  exposure  to  intense  cold  or  heat, 
want  of  cleanliness,  vicious  physical  habits,  are  physi- 
cal sins,  and  we  are  punished  by  physical  debility,  in- 
flammatory diseases  and  paralysis — to  say  nothing  of 
intellectual  and  moral  punishment  in  intimate  connec- 
tion with  these. 

These  physical  laws,  then,  we  ought  to  become  ac- 
quainted with,  and  use  them  in  regulating  our  physical 
conduct.  We  must  conduct  ourselves  in  obedience  to 
their  dictates,  not  only  at  stated  times,  when  we  are 
being  trained  by  physical  exercises,  but  at  all  times. 
They  must  become  habits,  for  then  alone  can  they  have 
continuous  power. 

Thus  alone  can  be  attained  "  the  healthy  mind  in  the 
healthy  body,"  which  is  rightly  asserted  to  be  indispen- 


14  INTRODUCTION. 

sable  to  every  man  who  would  possess  the  highest  pow- 
ers of  thought  and  action.  We  insist  upon  these  thus 
seriously  because  we  are  aware  that  the  force  and  the 
success  of  our  aims  depend  very  much  upon  the  strength 
and  vigor  of  the  power  that  directs  it. 

To  shine  as  a  man  of  merit  you  must  be  necessarily 
a  gentleman.  Now  what  is  a  gentleman  ?  If  you  look 
at  the  word  it  will  tell  you  so  far.  As  we  have  already 
said,  you  must  be  a  man^  but  more  than  this,  you  must 
be  a  gentleman.  Not  a  man  of  birth,  as  is  sometimes 
meant  by  gentle,  but  a  man  of  culture  and  refinement ; 
such  culture  and  refinement  as  are  within  the  reach  of 
every  man  who  chooses  to  make  the  necessary  effort  to 
acquire  them.  Is  not  the  highest  praise  you  hear  be- 
stowed upon  a  man  in  society,  "  He  is  a  thorough  gen- 
tleman "  ?  When  you  say  that  of  a  man,  you  feel  that 
you  are  tersely  according  him  in  that  one  word  every- 
thing that  is  becoming  a  man.  You  never  think  of 
adding  more  when  you  have  said  that.  On  the  other 
hand,  don't  you  sum  up  the  essence  of  all  that  is  un- 
manly, ungenerous,  and  what  is  pithily,  though  some- 
what vulgarly  termed  "  shabby,"  in  that  final  exclama- 
tion, "  He  is  no  gentleman  '^ } 

I  dare  say  you  know  pretty  well  what  it  is  to  be  no 
gentleman.  That  expression  comprehends  cowards, 
blackguards,  braggarts,  and  all  those  who  have  a  "  mean 
spirit,"  though  polished  with  the  most  distinguished 
lustre  of  manner,  and  shining  with  the  most  splendid 
ornaments. 


INTRODUCTION.  1$ 

*The  churl  in  spirit,  up  or  down 

Along  the  scale  of  ranks  through  all 
To  who  may  grasp  a  golden  ball, 
By  blood  a  king,  at  heart  a  clown. 


The  churl  in  spirit,  howe'er  he  veil 
His  want  in  forms  for  fashion's  sake, 
Will  let  his  coltish  nature  break 

At  seasons  through  the  gilded  pale. 

For  who  can  always  act  ?     But  he 
To  whom  a  thousand  memories  call, 
Not  being  less  but  more  than  all 

The  gentleness  he  seems  to  be." 

The  "  grand  old  name  of  gentleman ''  is  within  the 
reach  of  every  one  who  chooses  to  cultivate  the  quali- 
ties necessary  for  the  title.  The  patent  is  held  imme- 
diately from  God  Almighty,  and  men  recognize  and  al- 
low it  wherever  visible.  It  is  a  passport  in  all  societies 
to  the  affectionate  homage  of  all  true  hearts.  He  who 
wears  the  star  of  the  order  will  ever  find  himself  re- 
spected and  admired,  the  "  favorite  of  fairest  tongues," 
and  the  "  cynosure  of  neighboring  eyes." 

Such  distinctions  have  even  been  stamped  into  per- 
manent  form,  the  first  grade  of  which,  "  Baron,''  simply 
means  "  a  man."  *'  Raised  to  the  peerage  "  is  the  high- 
est honor  attainable,  and  it  is  an  honor  indeed  when 
the  title  is  grounded  on  deserving  action.  The  great 
absurdity  about  our  conventional  peerage  is  the  mak- 
ing it  hereditary.  Ample  proof  of  this  may  be  found  in 
the  frequent  difference  between  the  names  and  the 
things. 


l6  INTRODUCTION. 

"  Ye  see  yon  birkie  ca'd  a  lord, 

Wha  struts  and  stares,  an'  a*  that, 
/  Tho'  hundreds  worship  at  his  word 

He's  but  a  coof  for  a'  that. 
*  *  *  *  * 

The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
The  man's  the  gowd  for  a'  that." 

Fancy  a  young  "  divine  "  heiring  his  father^s  Doctor- 
ship  of  Divinity.  He  may  succeed  to  his  money,  and 
in  a  quiet  way*to  his  unprinted  sermons,  but  the  title  he 
must  win  for  himself,  and  very  properly  so.  Let  us  not 
be  misunderstood,  however.  Nobility  is  in  itself  a  rea- 
sonable thing — it  is  the  sham  that  is  contemptible.  No- 
bleman and  noble  man  often  mean  two  very  different 
things. 

The  dignity  of  simple  manliness  is  being  more  and 
more  appreciated  by  us.  Artificial  distinctions — such 
as  nobleman,  gentleman,  workman — differ  only  in  de- 
gree, not  in  kind.  A  man  is  the  essential  basis  of  all 
three.  The  qualifying  terms  are  artificial  and  conven- 
tional^ but  legitimate  enough  in  the  nature  of  the  thing 
itself.  Manliness^  however,  is  the  body  and  soul^  the 
qualificatio7is  are  but  the  drapery.  Yet  let  us  not  scorn 
what  derives  its  existence  from  the  generous  heart  of 
humanity  to  honor  and  distinguish  its  finest  develop- 
ments. The  workxi\2iVL  is  the  essence  of  all  the  others, 
and  never  disappears  in  them.  The  gentlemdiW^  is  but 
the  ^orkxmxi  polished  to  do  the  work  more  elegantly 
and  more  powerfully,  and  the  noblemdiii  especially  should 

*  The  term  getitle  of  course  refers  to  birth.  But  shall  that  birth 
be  the  accidental  social  class-birth  of  the  mortal  body,  or  the 
"  second  birth  "  of  the  immortal  soul  ? 


INTRODUCTION.  \'J 

be  the  man,  known  and  acknowledged  to  be  a  duke  or 
leader  of  men,  wherever  there  is  true  work  to  be 
done. 

Providence  allots  us  different  spheres  of  action ;  but 
a  king  can  be  no  more  a  man  than  you  or  I  can,  and  as 
men  we  all  stand  in  the  eye  of  the  Great  Monarch  of 
all.  We  are  all  peers  or  equals  in  so  far  as  the  great 
duties  are  concerned.  The  humblest  man  can  do  his 
duty,  and  the  most  powerful  prince  can  do  no  more. 
There  must  be  a  division  of  labor.  The  work  may  dif- 
fer in  kind  and  degree^  but  let  each  man  work  with  his 
utmost  ability^  aiming  the  while  at  his  utmost  attainment 
of  art ^  and  he  may  safely  leave  the  issues  of  life  with 
his  Creator.  He  is  just,  and  assuredly  will  not  scorn 
the  meanest  worker  out  of  His  providence.  It  is  only 
in  the  eye  of  man  that  the  difference  of  the  labor  as- 
sumes so  much  importance. 

Thank  God !  man  does  not  need  a  pedigree  of  man's 
making  to  make  him  truly  noble  ;  you  or  I,  dear  reader, 
may  be  as  noble  as  the  proudest  aristocrat  of  the  realm. 
There  is  a  nobility  of  thought  and  aspiration  infinitely 
transcending  the  nobility  of  mere  flesh  and  blood.  My 
boast  of  heraldry,  if  I  choose  to  vaunt  it,  cannot  be 
eclipsed  by  the  most  brilliant  roll  of  titled  ancestry. 
Flesh  and  blood  is  but  a  brute  view  of  such  a  noble 
matter.  I  would  rather  have  the  thought  of  a  Plato 
or  a  Socrates  prompt  the  energy  of  my  brain,  the  emo- 
tion of  a  Rousseau  or  a  Burns  quicken  the  pulses  of 
my  heart,  and  (in  this  aspiring  above  all  human  sources) 
the  love  of  Jesus  Christ  transfiguring  all  my  nature 
with  the  grace  of  God,  than  claim  kindred  with  the  dain- 
tiest bit  of  flesh  and  blood  in  the  land. 


l8  INTRODUCTION. 

"  Howi'er  it  be,  it  seems  to  me 
'Tis  only  noble  to  be  good ; 
Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets. 
And  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood." 

Reading,  then,  and  digesting  what  we  have  read, 
thereby  appropriating  the  good  and  the  power  in  what 
we  have  read,  forms  one  of  the  great  sources  whence 
we  draw  our  power  to  make  a  figure  in  the  world. 
Over  and  above  this,  Jiowever,  we  must  have  the  power 
to  make  a  proper  use  of  what  we  have  acquired,  and 
be  able  to  produce  it  when  it  is  required  in  conversa- 
tion or  our  intercourse  with  the  world. 

Conversation  is  simply  the  interchange  of  thought, 
and  if  you  desire  to  converse  successfully  you  must 
have  opinions  worth  the  giving.  Small  thoughts  may 
do  well  enough  for  small  talk.  We  hope,  however, 
you  will  not  be  content  with  such,  but  will  aim  at  be- 
coming a  being  of  a  reasonable  discourse  that  looks 
before  and  after.  "  The  gift  of  speech,"  says  Hervey, 
"  is  the  great  prerogative  of  our  rational  nature.  And 
it  is  a  pity  that  such  a  superior  faculty  should  be 
debased  to  the  meanest  purposes.  Suppose  all  our 
stately  vessels  that  pass  and  repass  the  ocean  were  to 
carry  out  nothing  but  tinsel  and  theatrical  decorations, 
were  to  import  nothing  but  glittering  baubles  and 
nicely  fancied  toys,  would  such  a  method  of  trading  be 
well  judged  in  itself,  or  beneficial  in  its  consequences  ? 
Articulate  speech  is  the  instrument  of  much  nobler 
commerce,  intended  to  transmit  and  diffuse  the  treas. 
ures  of  the  mind.  And  will  not  the  practice  be  al- 
together as  injudicious,  must  not  the  issue  be  infinitely 
more  detrimental,  if  this  vehicle  of  intellectual  wealth 


INTRODUCTION.  I9 

be  freighted  only  with  pleasing  fopperies  ?  "  Yes  ;  be 
as  smart  and  tight  a  craft  as  you  please  when  sailing 
into  the  favor  of  society,  but  when  you  shorten  sail  and 
begin  to  trade,  have  something  valuable  under  your 
upper  hatches  to  trade  with.  Not  that  we  would  have 
you  pedantic.  Far  from  that.  There  is  a  golden 
mean.  Be  neither  shallow  nor  profound.  In  the  one 
case  you  will  be  considered  a  fool,  in  the  other  a  bore. 
Do  not  be 

"  A  shallow  brain  behind  a  serious  mask, 
An  oracle  within  an  empty  cask. 
The  solemn  fop,  significant  and  budge, 
A  fool  with  judges,  amongst  fools  a  judge ; 
He  says  but  little,  and  that  little  said, 
Owes  all  its  weight,  like  loaded  dice,  to  lead. 
His  wit  invites  you  by  his  looks  to  come, 
But  when  you  knock  it  never  is  at  home ; 
'Tis  like  a  parcel  sent  you  by  the  stage, 
Some  handsome  present,  as  your  hopes  presage ; 
'Tis  heavy,  bulky,  and  bids  fair  to  prove 
An  absent  friend's  fidelity  and  love ; 
But  when  unpacked  your  disappointment  groans. 
To  find  it  stuffed  with  brickbats,  earth,  and  stones.'* 

Conversation  has  another  good  as  its  result  than  the 
mere  interchange  of  thought.  A  man  thereby  passes 
out  in  review  before  his  own  mind,  as  well  as  that  of 
others,  the  stores  he  may  have  laid  up  in  his  memory. 
What  he  has  acquired  becomes  a  more  powerful  item 
of  thought  when  he  presses  it  into  action  in  a  process 
of  thought  or  a  course  of  argumentation.  It  is  taking 
the  dust  off  the  furniture  of  his  mind,  and  making  it 
more  fit  for  use  than  it  was  before.  His  ideas  are  all 
the  healthier  for  the  exercise  they  have  passed  through. 


20  INTRODUCTION. 

Dr.  Johnson  said  that  he  gained  more  from  conversa- 
tion than  from  study.  Certainly  conversation  such  as 
his  was  a  course  of  study  in  itself,  from  its  intrinsic 
worth  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was  conducted.  It 
was  a  time  of  clubs,  instituted  for  the  very  purposes  of 
conversation,  which  there  and  then  meant  the  inter- 
change of  the  finest  thought  of  the  time.  Conversation 
at  all  times  is  one  of  the  greatest  educators  of  the 
mind.  The  conversation  of  our  companions  moulds 
us  more  than  the  lessons  and  lectures  of  our  teachers. 
A  man's  daily  conversation  is  the  mood  of  his  mind 
confessed  before  the  world.  The  very  business  he  is 
daily  engaged  in  is  a  kind  of  conversation  in  deed  and 
fact.  It  is  an  indispensable  condition  for  him  in  mak- 
ing his  mark  in  the  world,  and  especially  if  he  wishes 
to  make  that  mark  a  distinguished  one.  A  straightfor- 
ward doer  is  generally  a  straightforward  talker,  and  a 
man  versed  in  diplomatic  machinery  has  generally 
plenty  of  oily  speech  to  lubricate  the  working  of  the 
wheels. 

To  know  the  company  you  are  engaged  with  in  con- 
versation is  most  desirable,  and  will  contribute  much 
to  your  success.  You  cannot  talk  successfully  with  a 
man  unless  you  have  some  insight  into  his  character, 
his  business,  his  tastes,  etc.  Ascertain  these  before 
you  venture  far  into  the  interchange  of  sympathetic 
thought,  else  you  may  come  into  collision,  which  of 
course  ranks  as  a  topic  in  the  chapter  of  accidents. 
Look  into  people  as  well  as  at  them.  The  more  you 
know  of  their  predominant  passions,  their  weaknesses, 
vanities,  follies,  humors,  the  greater  the  power  you  may 
hold  over  them  in  social  intercourse.     If  you  have  any 


BODILY    DEPORTMENT.  2 1 

discernment  at  all  you  must  see  that  to  please  othei^s 
you  must  be  continually  sacrificing  self.  The  fact  is, 
that  you  can  only  raise  yourself  in  the  estimation  of 
others  by  courteously  refraining  from  anything  that 
has  the  least  look  of  raising  yourself. 

BODILY   DEPORTMENT. 

It  is  a  matter  of  the  first  importance  to  the  young 
aspirant  that  he  attend  to  the  training  and  deportment 
of  his  body,  as  well  as  that  of  his  mind.  Besides,  his 
physical  bearing  has  much  to  do  with  that  command 
of*  address,  which  is  so  noted  a  characteristic  of  the 
thoroughbred  gentleman.  The  body  should  be  prop- 
erly "  set  "  by  gymnastics,  fencing,  dancing,  drill^  or 
other  physical  exercises.'*  Don't  think  you  can  launch 
yourself  on  society  without  previous  preparation.  You 
must  carefully  prepare  yourself  before  you  can  hope  to 
succeed  in  this  world  of  ideas  and  impressions.  It  will 
not  do  to  despise  this,  declaiming  against  it  as  artifi- 
cial. It  is  all  art  from  beginning  to  end,  though  it  is 
art  so  modelled  according  to  nature  as  to  be  natural. 
Moreover,  it  is  an  art  which  must  be  acquired  before 
it  can  be  jDractised.  All  the  parts  of  the  body  contrib- 
ute to  this  deportment,  and  it  may  be  as  well  to  notice 
them  in  detail,  with  this  special  warning,  however,  that 

*  A  simple  and  easily  accessible  means  of  exercise  is  the  chest 
expander,  made  of  vulcanized  India-rubber,  a  pair  of  which  may- 
be attached  to  your  bedpost,  where  they  conveniently  hang,  for 
daily  morning  and  evening,  exercises.  This  is  a  decided  improve- 
ment on  the  old  method  by  dumb-bells,  which,  however,  are  bet- 
ter than  nothing  at  all. 


22  THE   HEAD. 

in  action  they  are  all  subordinate  to  the  impulse  of  the 
thought  that  is  being  expressed.  If  they  act  otherwise 
the  movement  is  sure  to  be  awkward  or  ungainly. 

POSITION   OF   THE   BODY. 

The  general  position  of  the  body  should  be  upright, 
with  the  head  erect,  the  chest  expanded  and  well  for- 
ward, the  shoulders  thrown  back,  the  bust  firmly,  yet 
lightly  resting  on  the  loins,  and  the  whole  poised  on 
the  legs  with  an  elastic,  easy  grace. 

THE    HEAD. 

The  head  should  sway  the  movement  of  the  whole 
body.  From  it,  through  the  eye,  radiates  the  entire 
meaning  of  the  man's  soul.  Hence  issues  all  true  dig- 
nity, emanating  from  the  mind  that  sits  "  throned  with- 
in the  ivory  palace  of  the  skull."  You  do  not  require 
to  "  bulk  out "  physically  before  the  eye  of  the  public 
to  bear  a  dignified  presence.  Earl  Russel  is  a  dimin- 
utive person  physically,  but  he  bears  himself  in  such  a 
dignified  manner  that  you  cannot  but  feel  the  large- 
hearted,  large-thoughted  soul  that  forms  his  personal 
identity.  Of  course,  a  person  who  has  a  commanding 
figure  has  the  advantage  to  begin  with,  but  we  mean  to 
say  that  a  good  deal  depends  on  the  way  you  make  use 
of  that  figure. 

The  face  is  the  index  of  the  soul,  especially  in  con- 
versation. By  an  intelligent  reader,  it  is  believed  rather 
than  the  tongue.  The  tongue  may  temporize  and  dis- 
semble, but  the  face  (and  especially  the  eye  and  the 
mouth)  reveals  what  is  passing  within.  The  old  com- 
plaint of  man  not  having  a  window  in  his  breast  is 


THE   TONGUE.  23 

groundless,  so  long  as  you  can  look  through  man's  eye 
into  his  soul.  Let  him  that  would  hope  to  shine  com- 
pel his  features  and  his  tongue  to  tell  the  same  tal^ 
and  the  tale  will  be  told  with  effect. 

THE   TONGUE. 

The  tongue,  as  the  main  organ  of  conversation, 
deserves  particular  attention.  We  are  apt  to  think  it 
gets  plenty  of  exercise  and  needs  no  training,  but  that 
is  decidedly  a  mistake.  To  do  its  work  artistically  and 
methodically  it  must  be  trained,  that  the  power  to  use 
it  may  be  easy  and  unconstrained.  This  is,  of  course, 
especially  the  case,  should  there  be  some  physical 
defect  of  the  tongue  impeding  the  utterance.*  The 
material  which  the  tongue  uses  to  syllable  into  words 
is  the  air  which  we  breathe.  Converted  into  voice  as 
it  passes  out  through  the  throat,  it  is  stamped  into  syl- 
lables by  the  organs  of  articulation,  the  chief  of  which 
is  the  tongue.  The  vocal  or  vowel  sound  must  be  pure 
and  full,  and  the  articulations  distinct,  if  the  thing  is  to 
be  done  properly  and  to  the  purpose.  Over  and  above 
this,  the  ear  has  to  determine  and  regulate  the  neces- 
sary cadences,  and  the  mind  to  imbue  the  whole  with 
the  appropriate  pathos.  A  considerable  amount  of 
practice  is  required  here,  and  where  practicable,  regu- 
lar training  should  be  undergone  under  a  competent 
master. 

*  Special  defects  claim  special  trainings,  but  in  general  the 
proper  training  is  simply  judicious  practice.  The  tongue,  the 
teeth,  the  lips,  the  palate,  and  the  nose,  all  combine  in  action  to 
form  articulations,  but  the  tongue,  nevertheless,  is  the  main 
©rgan,  the  others  are  mainly  subsidiary. 


24  THE   HAND. 

Next  to  the  eye  the  mouth  is  the  most  expressive 
feature,  and  contributes  very  much  to  the  style  of  the 
man.  Like  that  of  the  eye,  its  expression  cannot  be 
easily  disguised.  Large  mouths  are  generally  supposed 
to  be  ugly,  and  small  mouths  handsome,  but  this  is  a 
mistake.  There  certainly  is  a  natural  proportion  for 
the  size  of  the  mouth,  but  such  petty  criticism  is  swept 
away  by  the  expression  that  may  be  made  to  play  around 
it.  There  is  to  be  observed  even  in  the  simple  open- 
ing and  shutting  of  the  mouth  a  moderation  that  con- 
fers sweetness  and  grace.  The  mouth  has  a  range  of 
gestures  of  its  own  that  must  not  be  marred  nor  exag- 
gerated. Its  gesture  lies  more  with  the  finer  muscles 
about  the  lips  than  the  lever  tendons  of  the  jaws.  The 
eloquence  of  the  lips  is  an  old  theme  with  the  poets, 
who  love  to  delineate  all  that  charms  the  eye.  Virgil 
pictures  Dido  "  hanging  on  the  lips  '*  of  ^neas,  as 
the  handsome  warrior  recounts  the  wars  of  Troy;  not 
that  the  lips  themselves  wrought  the  charm,  but  no 
doubt  they  clothed  with  grace  to  the  eye  riveted  upon 
them  the  eloquent  fire  of  the  hero's  soul. 

THE  HAND. 

The  hand  has  a  greater  range  of  expression  than  any 
other  accessory  of  the  tongue.  The  eye  has  more  force, 
but  the  hand  can  vary  its  expression  so  much  that 
it  has  even  been  styled  a  supplementary  tongue.  Not 
that  when  speaking  the  words  should  be  measured  out 
with  a  pantomimic  accompaniment  of  the  hands,  but 
when  the  tongue  is  discoursing  sweet  sounds  from  the 


CONVERSATION.  25 

heart,  or  thrilling  the  air  with  the  thunder  of  the  soul, 
the  hand  should  vibrate  obedient  to  the  varying  im- 
pulse, telling  to  the  eye  what  the  tongue  tells  to  the 
ear.  Boisterous  gesticulation  with  the  hand  is  most 
reprehensible.  Ever  cultivate  a  quiet,  dignified  com- 
posure as  the  habit  of  your  manner,  and  you  can,  at 
fitting  opportunities,  enliven  that  by  seasonable  im- 
pulses of  your  own,  or  by  responding  heartily  to  those 
of  others. 

Remember  through  all  that  "  the  greatest  art  is  to 
conceal  the  art."  Never  be  conscious  of  playing  your- 
self out,  make  what  you  have  determined  to  be  the 
proper  thing  habitual,  and  it  will  soon  become  natural. 

CONVERSATION. 

Whatever  topic  of  conversation  be  "  on  the  carpet  " 
give  it  your  consideration  to  the  utmost  of  your  ability. 
Neglect  or  scorn  will  alienate  the  hearts  of  all  engaged. 
Do  not  be  so  much  inclined  to  contradict  the  speaker, 
as  to  approve  of  what  you  consider  right  in  what  he 
has  spoken.  If,  however,  he  has  said  what  ought  to  be 
contradicted,  do  it  in  a  manner  calculated  not  to  give 
offence.  If  the  speaker  be  obscure  in  what  he  has 
said,  do  not  charge  him  with  mystification.  Throw  the 
blame  rather  on  your  own  want  of  comprehension,  and 
ask  him  to  enlighten  you.  Even  when  a  speaker  from 
want  of  knowledge  of  his  subject  talks  what  to  you 
appears  downright  nonsense,  do  not  snub  him  with  an 
uncourteous  expression  of  the  thought  in  your  mind. 
If  it  be  necessary  to  correct  him,  do  it  in  a  kindly  way 
so  as  not  to  hurt  his  feelings. 


26  CONVERSATION. 

When  your  are  compelled  to  dissent  from  anything 
that  has  been  said,  state  first  how  far  you  agree  with 
the  speaker,  and  how  happy  you  are  to  accord  with 
him  so  far,  then  how  unwilling  you  are  to  differ  with 
him,  did  not  what  you  consider  truth  constrain  you, 
and  lead  you  to  adopt  such  or  such  an  opinion. 
Let  your  opinion  also  be  couched  in  the  least  repul- 
sive form,  the  words  being  few  and  gentle.  Be  sure 
to  let  the  speaker  finish  what  he  is  saying  before  you 
attempt  to  answer  or  reply  to  it.  Remember  what 
Solomon  has  said,  "  He  that  answereth  a  matter  before 
he  heareth  it,  it  is  folly  and  shame  unto  him." 

Conversation  generally  should  be  put  in  the  form  of 
propositions  or  thought  proposed  rather  than  dictatorial 
assertions,  for  it  is  a  general  contribution  of  talk,  not 
a  lesson,  a  sermon,  or  a  lecture.  There  is  a  time 
"  when  a  fool  should  be  answered  according  to  his  folly, 
lest  he  be  wise  in  his  own  conceit."  This  must  be 
done  judiciously,  however,  and  only  when  the  folly  is 
flagrant  and  annoying. 

Should  you  be  listening  to  one  who  has  a  diffuse 
and  magniloquent  style  of  expressing  himself,  condense 
his  statements,  and  ask  him  if  that  is  what  he  means, 
then  proceed  to  answer  him.  This  mode  of  correction 
will  give  him  the  hint  more  politely,  and  in  such  a  way 
that  he  need  not  take  offence.  The  matter  in  hand 
will  also  be  more  likely  to  receive  a  speedier  solution. 
Learn  to  bear  contradiction  with  patience  and  good 
temper.  Listen  candidly  and  with  consideration  to  all 
that  is  being  said  on  the  subject  in  hand  ;  weigh  it 
well  and  with  justice,  and  show  that  you  have  taken  it 
into   account  in   the    determination    of   your   opinion. 


MANNER   OF   SPEAKING.  2/ 

Never  anticipate  judgment.  That  would  show  either 
that  you  were  indifferent  to  the  opinions  of  the  others, 
or  that  you  questioned  their  judgment,  or  that  you  were 
nailed  down  to  a  judgment  probably  not  of  your  own 
making. 

THE   MANNER   OF   SPEAKING. 

Before  beginning  to  speak  with  any  one,  note  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face.  If  it  be  sad,  do  not  begin  by 
breaking  a  jest  with  him  ;  if  merry,  do  not  begin  by 
sighing  out  a  complaint.  Suit  yourself  to  your  man, 
and  then  you  may  hope  to  begin  successfully. 

Watch  the  effect  of  your  words  through  his  face. 
That  is  where  you  must  read  the  result  whether  success- 
ful or  not.  All  the  time  you  are  talking  you  must  wait 
on  him  also  with  your  eye,  so  as  to  bs  guided  in  what 
it  would  be  judicious  to  say  next.  It  is  a  kind  of  fenc- 
ing with  the  tongue,  with  the  eye  as  guide  and  guard. 

As  a  general  rule,  it  is  wise  to  shun  everything  in 
conversation  upon  which  the  company  may  be  likely  to 
differ  seriously.  Politics  and  religion  generally  come 
under  this  head.  Politics  may  be  made  to  assume  a 
phase  that  is  by  no  means  reprehensible,  as  a  policy  of 
another  nation  in  which  no  one  present  is  immediately 
interested  vitally.  What  is  general  in  religion — what 
intimately  concerns  religious  morality  is  a  legitimate 
enough  topic.  Especially  what  bears  upon  Christian 
manliness  must  be  one  of  the  noblest  topics  any  com- 
pany can  talk  about,  but  cant,  dogma,  special  creeds, 
questionable  experiences,  and  such  like,  must  never  be 
entered  on. 


28  MANNER   OF   SPEAKING. 

Though  you  should  have  the  soundest  reason  on 
your  side,  yield  with  a  good  grace  when  you  see  that 
the  discussion  is  becoming  irritating,  and  likely  to  lead 
to  downright  quarrel.  You  will  thereby  conciliate 
your  opponent,  who,  you  may  be  sure,  will  not  on  any 
terms  allow  himself  to  be  talked  into  the  right,  seeing 
that  he  has  lost  his  temper,  which  means  that  for  the 
time  being  he  has  actually  lost  his  reason.  You  would 
have  no  objection  to  give  in  to  the  whim  of  a  madman, 
why  then  not  to  him  who  is  temporarily  mad  ?  Such  a 
procedure  may  convince  him  when  he  reflects  upon 
what  has  been  said.  At  any  rale,,  by  yielding  the  point 
you  show  to  advantage  in  the  opinion  of  every  sensible 
person  in  the  company. 

Never  hold  an  opinion  "obstinately  in  the  face  of  rea- 
son and  sense.  Some  people  assert  dogmatically, 
and  will  listen  to  nothing  on  the  opposite  side.  Gen- 
erally those  who  assert  dogmatically  believe  blindly, 
and  are  looked  upon  as  bigoted  fools.  You  may  have 
decided  opinions,  and  yet  wear  them  easily  and  grace- 
fully. Obstinacy  is  sometimes  looked  upon  as  dignity, 
but  it  is  a  great  mistake.  It  is  more  dignified  to  keep 
your  opinions  in  the  background  than  to  push  them 
arrogantly  forward. 

Never  talk  about  things  of  which  you  are  ignorant, 
nor  of  which  you  know  very  little,  else  you  are  sure  to 
make  a  fool  of  yourself.  Never  venture  out  of  your 
depth,  and  you  are  not  likely  to  get  drowned.  If  some 
one  knocks  you  out  of  your  soundings  don^t  be  ashamed 
to  say  that  you  can't  swim. 

The  art  of  listening  is  as  important  as  the  art  of  con- 
versing.     A  good  listener  is  always  sure  to  please. 


SPEAK   GRAMMATICALLY.  29 

The  one  who  is  talking  to  him  gifts  him  with  all  the 
qualities  necessary  to  appreciate  his  own  discourse, 
and  the  listener  venturing  nothing  cannot  of  course 
possibly  lose  anything.  Not  that  we  would  recommend 
this  quiet  swallowing  of  others'  talk.  Each  man  is 
bound  in  courtesy  to  furnish  his  quota,  and  the  most 
polite  way  is  to  give  as  much  as  you  receive.  It  is  won- 
derful how  much  you  can  contribute  to  a  conversation 
the  subject  matter  of  which  is  comparatively  strange  to 
you.  Different  kinds  of  knowledge  have  all  a  relation- 
ship which  frequently  brings  them  into  contact,  and  in 
virtue  of  this  your  turn  is  pretty  sure  to  come,  how  re- 
mote soever  the  subject  be  from  your  accustomed 
sphere  of  studies.  Every  man  should  make  himself  as 
many-sided  as  possible,  and  in  that  case  no  kind  of 
conversation  should  come  amiss.  In  contributing  be- 
sides to  a  conversation,  in  the  absence  of  facts  you  may 
furnish  inquiries  regarding  facts  of  which  you  may  hap- 
pen to  be  ignorant.  No  man  is  bound  to  know  every- 
thing except  a  schoolmaster,  as  Charles  Lamb  face- 
tiously remarks. 

SPEAK  GRAMMATICALLY. 

All  who  move  in  polite  society  are  understood  to  be 
grammatically  conversant  with  their  mother  tongue. 
Indeed,  the  more  thoroughly  acquainted  you  are  with 
the  language  you  are  conversing  in,  the  more  likely  you 
are  to  shine  in  it.  It  may  not  be  so  much  adapted  for 
conversation'as  the  French,  but  it  has  more  power,  for 
it  is  pre-eminently  the  language  of  thought.  It  is  earn- 
est beyond  any  language  living,  but  there  is  a  wide  dif- 


30  SPEAK   GRAMMATICALLY. 

f  3rence  between  a  superficial  knowledge  of  it,  and  that 
thorough  acquaintance  with  it  that  finds  its  words 
winged  with  the  gentleness  of  the  dove  or  the  vigor  of 
the  eagle.  At  the  same  time  that  you  take  care  to 
speak  correctly,  be  not  forward  to  correct  the  language 
of  others,  should  they  happen  to  make  mistakes.  Such 
a  course  would  be  the  height  of  ill-breeding.  Take  not 
the  slightest  obvious  notice  of  them,  nor  is  there  any 
need  for  your  doing  so — they  have  already  been  noted 
quietly  by  every  well-educated  person  who  may  have 
heard  them*  Your  noticing  them  publicly  would  be 
set  down  against  you  as  an  act  of  malicious  pedantry. 
Let  others  alone  and  be  content  to  watch  yourself. 

Avoid  pedantic  and  obsolete  words  and  phrases  in 
your  conversation,  unless  you  wish  to  pass  for  a  solemn 
fool.  Affectation  of  any  kind  is  simply  ridiculous. 
Use  the  words  and  phrases  that  are  correct  in  good  so- 
ciety. Your  own  good  sense  will  generally  guide  you 
in  determining  what  should  be  adopted  and  what 
should  be  avoided.  Phraseology  peculiar  to  the  sa- 
loons, clubs,  theatres,  stables,  etc.,  is  not  allowable  on 
any  account,  as  it  is  certain  to  stamp  any  person  who 
uses  it  as  a  "low  fellow."  Equally  reprehensible  as 
being  out  of  place,  is  the  phraseology  peculiar  to  the 
house  of  prayer.  That  is  too  sacred  a  subject  to  be 
drawled  over  with  commonplace  topics,  and  the  manner 
so  venerably  appropriate  to  the  hour  of  prayer  sounds 
very  much  like  cant  in  the  hour  of  light  conversation. 

The  surest  way  to  please  is  to  speak  simply  and  with 
no  appearance  of  affectation.  Pretentiousness  is  sure 
to  be  put  down,  for  it  wounds  the  amour propre  of  the 
listeners,  and  bores  them  with  want  of  useful  purpose. 


SPEAK   GRAMMATICALLY.  3  I 

Depend  upon  it,  if  once  you  begin  to  admire  yourself 
for  what  you  are  saying,  the  admiration  of  others  is 
sure  to  be  in  the  inverse  ratio  to  your  own.  To  exhibit 
yourself  in  conversation  is  just  about  as  bad  as  to 
talk  about  yourself ;  both  are  insufferable,  and  should 
never  be  attempted  by  him  who  has  the  least  desire  to 
shine. 

Be  sure  that  you  consider  well  what  you  are  going 
to  say  before  you  actually  say  it ;  moreover,  consider 
well  to  whom  you  are  going  to  say  it.  Never  ask  infor- 
mation concerning  a  third  party  from  one  whom  you 
know  nothing  about,  and  take  care  to  say  nothing  good 
or  ill  to  him  relative  to  the  third  party.  You  would  be 
making  a  confidant  thereby  of  one  who  is  an  utter 
stranger  to  you.  You  are  apt  to  forget  this  in  the  mo- 
ment of  good  companionship.  Never  speak  evil  or  good 
of  a  person  who  is  not  present,  if  you  wish  to  please 
everybody.  If  you  speak  evil  of  him,  he  may  have 
friends  there  unknown  to  you  who  will  make  your  words 
recoil  on  yourself.  If  you  speak  good  of  him,  then  his 
enemies  may  become  yours.  It  is  the  best  and  safest 
way  not  to  talk  of  him  at  all.  But  if  you  must  speak  of 
him,  speak  good  rather  than  evil,  for  you  will  thereby  be 
likely  to  make  fewer  enemies.  A  better  reason  is  that 
it  is  more  Christian-like,  and  therefore  more  in  accord- 
ance with  true  politeness. 

"  Not  to  offend,"  it  has  been  truly  said,  "  is  the  first 
step  towards  pleasing."  This  remark  is  well  worth  the 
consideration  of  all  who  try  to  shine  by  brilliancy  of  wit 
The  shaft  of  ridicule  that  wounds  to  pain  rebounds  on 
him  who  sped  it,  and  wounds  himself  more  seriously 
than  the  victim.     This  first  step  is  the  only  introduction 


32  MEMORY. 

to  those  that  follow.     To  wound  the  feelings  of  others 
is  un-Christian  and  therefore  unpolite. 


EGOTISM. 

Of  course,  unless  you  happen  to  be  in  love,  you  are 
the  most  important  being  in  the  world  to  yourself.  You 
think,  feel,  and  act  from  self.  The  Golden  Rule  of 
etiquette  is  simply  that  you  should  do  unto  others  as 
you  would  that  others  should  do  unto  you.  Without  a 
due  sense  of  the  Ego  you  would  be  a  nonentity.  "  There 
is  no  man  however  small  but  makes  a  figure  in  his  own 
eyes."  When  the  due  sense  of  it  beams  out  handsomely, 
we  call  it  self-respect ;  when  it  darts  out  offensively, 
egotism. 

Modesty  is  but  the  proper  thing  if  you  find  yourself 
inferior,  and  the  most  becoming  if  superior.  It  is  a 
good  background  for  talents  to  shine  from.  It  will 
never  degrade  you  lower,  but  may  often  raise  you 
higher  than  you  deserve  ;  for  in  polite  society  the  bal- 
ance is  always  in  favor  of  what  is  proper  and  correct.  A 
favorite  mode  of  egotism  is  what  is  commonly  called 
**  fishing  "  for  praise  out  of  the  mouths  of  others,  either 
by  praising  them  in  the  first  instance,  by  way  of  giving 
the  cue,  for  the  very  qualities  we  are  vain  enough  to  think 
ourselves  possessed  of,  or  by  under-rating  our  ability, 
when  we  are  well  known  to  possess  it  in  a  high  degree. 

MEMORY. 

A  good  memory  is  a  great  help  to  ready  conversation. 
It  is  a  storehouse  from  which  you  may  draw  inexhaus- 


THE   SPLENDID   SPEAKER.  33 

ti"ble  materiai.  Of  course,  you  can  draw  out  only  what 
you  have  stored  up  in  it.  Be  careful,  then,  to  put  into 
it  what  you  need  not  be  ashamed  to  bring  out  of  it.  To 
shine  in  society  you  need  not  necessarily  be  brilliant  in 
intellect  or  in  imagination — to  be  well  informed  and  in- 
telligent is  all  that  is  required.  The  well-informed  man 
has  a  great  advantage  in  conversation.  It  is  not  a  time 
nor  a  place  for  reference,  and  he  who  can  off-hand  fix 
a  date  or  supply  a  fact,  shines  to  advantage  in  the  con- 
versation. 

TRUTH. 

In  the  excitement  and  play  of  conversation  always 
bear  a  strict  adherence  to  truth.  Honesty  of  fact 
should  never  be  departed  from,  else  it  v/ill  vitiate  the 
strength  and  influence  of  what  a  man  says.  He  is  sure 
to  be  found  out  sooner  or  later,  for  men  are  pretty  good 
critics  of  the  probable  and  the  improbable.  Never  at- 
tempt to  angle  for  surprise  with  relating  prodigious  in- 
cidents. Such  are  only  fit  for  children  and  silly  old 
men. 

**  A  great  retailer  of  this  curious  ware 
Having  unloaded  and  made  many  stare, 

*  Can  this  be  true  ? '  an  arch  observer  cries; 

•  Yes^*  rather  moved,  *  I  saw  it  with  these  eyes.* 
'  Sir,  I  believe  it,  on  that  ground  alone, 

I  could  not,  had  I  SQen  it  with  my  own.'  " 

THE   SPLENDID    SPEAKER. 

There  he  is,    faultlessly  dressed!     Instinctively  he 
has  taken  his  seat  in  the  most  conspicuous  part  of  the 
3 


34  THE    SPLENDID    SPEAKER. 

room,  every  corner  of  which  he  commands  with  his 
omni-radiating  eye.  With  ears  erect,  he  awaits  the  de- 
cisive moment  to  lay  hold  of  the  conversation  with  his 
everlasting  tongue.  He  is  lying  in  wait,  and  now  he 
springs  from  his  ambush,  and  fastens  on  his  helpless 
victims.  You  have  said  something  to  an  intelligent 
person  next  you,  with  whom  you  anticipate  an  agreeable 
chat.  No  such  happiness  for  you,  with  such  an  animal 
prowling  near.  Clearing  his  throat  (which  sounds  like 
an  ominous  grow^l  before  the  decisive  leap)  and  extend- 
ing his  hand  to  your  neighbor  to  indicate  that  he  need 
not  answer,  he  comes  down  upon  you  with  infinite 
majesty,  and  with  an  air  that  stills  every  voiceful 
breath  in  the  room.  (You  never  hear  the  birds  sing 
when  a  kite  is  upon  them.)  Magniloquently  he  replies 
to  your  simple  remarks,  nor  need  you  answer  him  back. 
He  means  to  talk  for  you  and  the  company  the  rest  of 
the  evening.  Nor  is  his  voice  shaped  for  you  alone. 
It  is  conscious  of  being  addressed  to  every'  pair  of  ears 
in  the  room.  At  length  one  of  the  victims  rebels. 
The  splendid  speaker  is  contradicted.  With  terrible 
concentration  of  power  he  turns  round  upon  the  of- 
fending culprit,  and  annihilating  him  with  his  eyes,  pro- 
ceeds to  re-annihilate  him  with  his  tongue.  But  to  his 
astonishment  the  rebellion  is  general.  A  thousand 
satiric  darts  are  hurled  at  his  head.  He  is  silenced. 
With  inexpressible  hauteur  he  turns  from  them  all  and 
wraps  himself  in  the  imperturbable  impenetrability  of 
his  self-conscious  dignity.  He  is  fairly  "  shut  up," 
and  everybody  is  thankful. 


SELF-RESPECT.  35 

SELF-RESPECT. 

This  is  a  feeling  that  has  nothing  in  common  with 
egotism,  though  it  has  reference  to  self.  The  man  who 
does  not  respect  himself  will  never  be  respected  by  oth- 
ers. There  is  a  dignity,  in  the  assuming  of  which  there 
is  no  arrogance  but  the  greatest  propriety.  This 
dignity  is  quite  compatible  with  modesty,  humility,  and 
all  the  unpretending  virtue^s.  It  is  a  sad  sight  to  see 
a  man  undervaluing  himself  and  the  purpose  for  which 
he  was  destined,  by  not  employing,  or  by  abusing  the 
powers  he  possesses.  One  man  fritters  himself  away 
in  silly  or  ignoble  pursuits ;  another  helps  to  swell  the 
current  of  crime  by  prostituting,  it  may  be,  splendid 
talents  in  the  service  of  vice.  Just  think  what  a  man 
is.  Take  Shakespeare's  fine  description — "  What  a 
piece  of  work  is  man  !  how  noble  in  reason !  how  in- 
finite in  faculties  !  in  form  and  moving  how  express 
and  admirable  !  in  action  how  like  an  angel !  in  ap- 
prehension how  like  a  god  ! "  It  is  quite  right  and 
proper  to  have  an  adequate  idea  of  what  you  really  are, 
and  to  act  upon  that  idea,  which  you  may  very  well  do 
without  arrogating  more  to  yourself  than  is  necessary. 
Self-respect,  be  it  remembered,  is  acted,  not  professed 
by  word  of  mouth.  Whenever  you  begin  to  talk  of  your 
self-respect  you  are  in  imminent  danger  of  loosing  it. 
He  only  can  properly  respect  himself  who  orders  all 
his  thoughts  and  actions  in  accordance  with  the  princi- 
ples of  religion  and  m.orality.  It  is  nonsense  to  speak 
of  a  silly  man  or  a  bad  man  respecting  himself.  It  is 
necessary  to  have  the  elements  that  cause  respect  to  be 
entertained  by  others.     The   consciousness  of  having 


36  MODESTY. 

them  and  of  ever  acting  on  them  induces  the  feeling  in 
our  breast.  The  meanest  hind  may  be  actuated  by  it 
as  well  as  the  proudest  monarch.  It  is  every  man's 
safeguard  against  degradation.  Whenever  self-respect 
is  gone,  all  trace  of  manliness  is  quickly  lost. 

MODESTY. 

Of  all  qualities,  modesty  would  seem  at  first  thought 
the  least  compatible  with  **  shining  in  society,"  but  it 
is  not  so.  "  A  just  and  reasonable  modesty,"  says 
Addison,  "  sets  off  every  great  talent  a  man  maybe  pos- 
sessed of.  It  heightens  all  the  virtues  which  it  accom- 
panies ;  like  the  shades  in  paintings,  it  raises  and  rounds 
every  figure,  and  makes  the  colors  more  beautiful, 
though  not  so  glaring  as  they  would  be  without  it." 
Indeed,  this  quality  is  of  so  much  importance  that  you 
must  **  assume  a  modesty  if  you  have  it  not."-  You  gain 
infinitely  more  than  you  give  up,  for  there  is  a  generous 
feeling  in  society  that  tends  to  accord  where  no  pre- 
tension is  made,  even  to  a  greater  extent  than  there  is 
any  real  ground  for.  "  Be  not  too  tame  either,  but  let 
your  own  discretion  be  your  tutor." 

A  man  generally  feels  bashful  when  he  feels  that  he 
is  singular.  Place  him  where  this  feeling  has  no  rea- 
son to  exist,  and  his  bashfulness  disappears.  It  is 
much  better  that  any  singularity  he  may  possess  should 
induce  bashfulness  rather  than  vanity,  but  there  is  no 
substantial  reason  for  either  the  one  or  the  other.  Re- 
move the  singularity,  if  there  be  one  really  and  not 
merely  in  your  own  imagination,  as  is  often  the  case,  and 
then  there  can  be  no  occasion  for  it ;  or  if  the  singular- 


BOLDNESS.  37 

ity  be  such  that  you  cannot  remove  it,  do  not  seem  to  be 
conscious  of  it  yourself,  and  he  who  dares  to  notice  will 
be  censured  by  every  man  of  sense  in  the  company. 

"  I  pity  bashful  men,  who  feel  the  pain 
Of  fancied  scorn  and  undeserved  disdain, 
And  bear  the  marks  upon  a  blushing  face 
Of  endless  shame  and  self-imposed  disgrace. 
Our  sensibilities  are  so  acute, 
The  fear  of  being  silent  makes  us  mute. 
We  sometimes  think  we  could  a  speech  produce 
Much  to  the  purpose,  if  our  tongues  were  loose ; 
But  being  tried  it  dies  upon  the  lip, 
Faint  as  a  chicken's  note  that  has  the  pip." 


BOLDNESS. 

Without  a  proper  amount  of  boldness  no  one  can 
hope  to  shine  in  society.  A  weak,  flickering  light  can- 
not shine  to  any  useful  purpose.  If  you  have  plenty  of 
oil  within  to  keep  your  light  burning,  hide  it  not  under 
a  bushel,  but  place  it  boldly  where  it  may  give  light  to 
all  who  are  within  its  range. 

"  But  know,  that  nothing  can  so  foolish  be 
As  empty  boldness  ;  therefore  first  essay 
To  stuff  thy  mind  with  solid  bravery- 
Then  march  on  gallant,  get  substantial  worth : 
Boldness  gilds  finely,  and  will  set  it  forth." 

Take  care,  however,  that  your  boldness  does  not 
over-reach  itself  and  degenerate  into  impertinence  or 
rudeness.  You  may  know  when  that  takes  place  by 
the  impression  you  have  made  upon  your  listeners.  If 
you  have  done  wrong,  don't  hesitate  to  apologize  at 


38  FORWARDNESS. 

once,  as  an  artist  who  has  made  a  false  stroke  is  not 
ashamed  to  rub  it  out.  Even  in  rendering  the  apology 
you  may  find  occasion  to  distinguish  yourself,  for  it 
stamps  you  as  a  gentleman  of  the  right  sort  at  once. 
*'  Handsome  is  that  handsome  does  "  is  a  very  well 
known  and  much  appreciated  saying  in  all  companies. 

FORWARDNESS. 

Nothing  is  .more  unbecoming  or  more  calculated  to 
defeat  one's  attempts  to  "  shine "  than  forwardness. 
Young  persons  ought  not  to  assume  consequence  in  any 
kind  of  society,  but  especially  before  men  of  age,  wis- 
dom, and  experience.  Take  the  sensible  advice  of 
Parmenio,  the  Grecian  general,  to  his  son — "  My  son, 
would  you  be  great,  you  must  be  less  ;  that  is,  you  must 
be  less  in  your  own  eyes  if  you  would  be  great  in  the 
eyes  of  others."  A  French  writer  beautifully  illustrates 
the  contrast  thus  : — "  The  modest  deportment  of  really 
wise  men,  when  contrasted  with  the  assuming  air  of  the 
young  and  ignorant,  may  be  compared  to  the  different 
appearance  of  wheat,  which  while  its  ear  is  empty  holds 
up  its  head  proudly,  but  as  soon  as  it  is  filled  with 
grain,  bends  modestly  down  and  withdraws  from  ob- 
servation.'* 

Boasting  is  a  mode  of  putting  one's  self  forward  that 
is  very  offensive.  Don't  try  it,  for  people  won't  believe 
a  word  of  what  you  say.  There's  a  good  story  told  of  a 
young  clergyman  in  America  boasting  in  company  that 
he  had  been  educated  at  two  colleges,  Harvard  and 
Cambridge.  "You  remind  me,"  said  an  aged  divine 
present,  "  of  an  instance  I  knew  of  a  calf  that  sucked 


CIVILITY.  39 

two  cows."  "  What  was  the  consequence  ?  "  said  a 
third  person.  *'Why,  sir,"  replied  the  old  gentleman 
very  gravely,  "  the  consequence  was  that  he  was  a  very 
great  cal/y     Served  him  right. 

DIFFIDENCE. 

Though  forwardness  is  to  be  avoided  if  you  desire  to 
please,  you  must  not  fall  into  the  other  extreme  of  diffi- 
dence. As  it  is  usually  men  of  little  knowledge  and  of 
mediocre  talent  that  push  themselves  forward  where 
they  ought  not  to  be,  so  generally  we  find  it  to  be  men 
of  uncommon  worth,  fine  genius,  and  excellent  ability 
that  labor  under  the  terrors  of  diffidence.  Of  the  two, 
diffidence  is  certainly  the  less  objectionable,  but  if  you 
3esire  to  make  a  figure  at  all  this  will  defeat  your  object, 
though  you  should  be  otherwise  most  distinguished. 
The  fact  is,  society  is  a  terror  to  a  diffident  man,  and 
he  instinctively  avoids  it.  Diffidence  may  be  overcome, 
however,  by  the  force  of  moral  courage,  and  the  accus- 
toming one's  self,  so  as  to  become  familiar  with  the  so- 
cial duties.     Habit  in  this  becomes  second  nature. 

^  CIVILITY. 

Civility,  it  has  been  said,  costs  nothing,  and  yet  it  is  of 
great  value.  We  cannot  dispense  with  the  law  to  honor 
all  men.  If  a  civil  word  or  two  will  make  a  man  happy, 
why  should  we  withhold  them  when  they  cost  us  noth- 
ing. ''  It  is  like  lighting  another  man's  candle  by  one's 
own,  which  loses  none  of  its  light  by  what  the  other 
gains."     A  kind  >yQrd  or  a  kjnd  actjon  will  often  call 


40  ATTENTION. 

forth  more  gratitude  in  the  heart  of  the  recipient  than 
material  benefits.  It  is  quite  possible  for  a  man  to  be 
compelled  to  receive  a  benefit,  and  yet  not  thank  the 
giver  through  the  incivility  of  the  conferment. 

ATTENTION. 

A  good  listener  is  always  a  favorite  in  conversation. 
The  art  of  listening  well  is  sometimes  preferable  to  the 
art  of  speaking  well.  Want  of  attention  to  a  person  who 
is  speaking  to  you  is  a  gross  contravention  of  the  law  of 
politeness.  It  is  a  crime  not  easily  pardoned  by  the  vic- 
tim, who  feels  it  perhaps  more  keenly  than  an  open  in- 
sult. We  know  that  towards  '^  bores  "  it  is  almost  im- 
possible not  to  conduct  one's  self  even  with  some 
marked  show  of  inattention,  but  the  well-bred  man  will 
rather  seek  the  means  of  politely  ridding  himself  of  the 
"  bore,"  and  so  have  ^'  one  enemy  the  less,"  which  is 
the  next  best  to  having  "  one  friend  the  more."  In  lis- 
tening to  the  conversation  of  another,  it  is  not  only  nec- 
essary that  you  should  attend,  but  that  you  should  show 
your  interest  in  the  matter  by  frequent  responses  or 
ejaculations,  or  remarks.  Passive  silence  merely, 
even  with  your  eyes  indicating  attention,  is  not  enough. 
You  must  show  that  you  have  been  attending  with  your 
ears  also,  and  that  is  best  done  by  responding  with  your 
tongue. 

One  very  common  reason  why  we  meet  with  so  few 
people  who  are  really  agreeable  in  conversation  is  that 
there  is  scarcely  anybody  who  does  not  think  more  of 
what  he  has  to  say,  than  of  listening  to  and  answering 
what  is  said  to  him.     Even  those  who  are  reputed  to 


''  LARGE   TALK   AND    SMALL  TALK."  4I 

have  the  greatest  politeness  sometimes  think  they  do 
enough  if  they  only  seem  to  be  attentive.  At  the  same 
time  their  eyes  and  gestures  betray  a  distraction  as  to 
what  is  addressed  to  them,  and  an  impatience  to  return 
to  what  they  themselves  were  saying.  They  forget  that 
to  be  studious  of  pleasing  themselves  is  but  a  poor  way 
to  please  others,  and  that  to  listen  patiently  and  answer 
complaisantly  is  essentially  characteristic  of  good  con- 
versation. Without  careful  attention  nothing  can  be 
done,  and  your  attention  should  not  only  be  careful  and 
considerate,  but  quick  and  universal  too,  so  far  as  your 
range  is  occupied,  for  where  all  are  considered  on  an 
equality  no  one  cares  to  be  overlooked.  Readiness  of 
attention  is  also  a  valuable  auxiliary  to  maintain  that 
easy  flow  of  conversation  which  is  so  liable  to  be  inter- 
rupted by  a  change  of  speakers  or  of  subjects.  The 
fact  is,  that  to  be  perfect  in  this,  you  should  have  within 
the  range  of  your  observation  all  that  is  transpiring 
around  you — all  the  people,  their  motions,  their  looks, 
their  words,  and  yet  without  staring  at  them  or  seeming 
to  be  an  observer.  Be  ever  ready  for  any  little  inter- 
change of  civility  that  may  occur.  Remember  how 
pleased  you  were  with  the  slightest  mark  of  attention 
paid  to  you.  The  same  result  will  follow^  when  you 
show  them  to  others. 

" LARGE  TALK  AND  SMALL  TALK." 

Some  young  men  have  a  habit  of  talking  largely  about 
things  and  about  themselves.  They  desire  not  only  to 
shine  but  to  astonish.  These  belong  to  the  class 
dubbed  by  society  "  Magnificent  liars.  "     Let  them  give 


42  "LARGE   TALK   AND    SMALL   TALK." 

over  the  habit,  for  they  are  never  believed,  even  when 
they  may  be  telling  the  plain,  unadorned  matter  of  fact. 
So  far  from  shining,  they  are  pretty  sure  some  time  or 
other,  to  have  the  "  shine  "  completely  extinguished  by 
some  intended  victim  who  cannot  stomach  the  silly  im- 
position longer. 

Small  talk  is  as  great  a  fault  as  large  talk,  \\iietherit 
be  shallow  or  flippant.  Part  of  the  conversation  must 
necessarily  be  made  up  of  commonplace  topics,  but  these 
can  be  dealt  within  a  rational  and  gentlemanly  manner* 
without  condescending  to  gossip  and  "  old  wives'  gab- 
ble." 

Talk  much  and  err  much,  says  the  Spaniard,  and  the 
Spaniard  is  not  far  wrong.  If  we  lay  ourselves  out  to 
talk  much,  then  we  venture  upon  what  we  do  not  know 
very  well  rather  than  cease  talking,  and  so  make  blun- 
ders. To  bridle  the  tongue  is  not  so  very  easy  when  it 
has  a  mind  to  set  off  at  full  gallop.  "  Reason  lies  be- 
tween the  spur  and  the  bridle."  Use  a  wise  modera- 
tion, being  neither  too  sedate  nor  too  talkative.  The 
former  will  proclaim  your  ignorance  to  the  company,  the 
latter  your  presumption  and  conceit.  Talkativeness, 
though  in  the  main  to  be  censured,  does  not  always  pro- 
ceed from  want  of  judgment.  In  Scotland  people  are 
not  talkative  enough — they  are  too  reticent,  and  when 
they  do  talk,  they  rather  argue  than  converse.  In 
France  the  conversation  seems  to  us  an  eternal  jabber, 
so  incessantly  do  they  talk.  In  England  they  have  a 
free  open-hearted  talkativeness  that  is  light,  merry,  and 
cheerful,  without  being  at  all  flippant,  and  this  seems  to 
be  the  vein  most  natural  for  the  purposes  of  conversa- 
tion. 


ANECDOTE.  43 

ANECDOTE. 

Anecdotes,  when  well  told  and  fittingly  introduced, 
form  good  "  shining  "  material.  The  chief  requisite  is 
that  they  be  new,  and  calculated  to  interest  and  amuse 
the  compan}^  They  ought  to  be  introduced  seldom, 
and  only  when  they  are  apt  Omit  unnecessary  detail 
and  never  digress.  Impregnate  them  with  as  much  live- 
liness and  humor  as  you  can.  The  more  brilliantly  they 
sparkle  the  more  they  are  appreciated.  But  beware  of 
dry  narrative. 

"  A  story  in  which  native  humor  reigns 
Is  often  useful,  always  entertains ; 
But  sedentary  weavers  of  long  tales 
Give  me  the  fidgets,  and  my  patience  fails. 
*Tis  the  most  asinine  employ  on  earth 
To  hear  them  tell  of  parentage  and  birth, 
And  echo  conversations  dull  and  dry, 
Embellished  with — He  saidy  and  so  said  /.'* 

Anecdotes  which  may  do  very  well  in  one  company 
may  fall  flat  and  tedious  in  another.  The  character, 
the  habits,  the  cant  of  one  company  may  give  merit  to 
a  story  which  may  be  entirely  wanting  in  another. 
People  are  often  disappointed  by  not  attending  to  this. 
They  are  mortified  beyond  measure  to  find  what  set 
one  company  in  a  roar,  and  procured  for  them,  may- 
hap, immediate  conversational  status,  falls  flat  and 
dull  in  another  which  they  hoped  to  have  taken  by 
storm,  and  for  that  purpose  committed  themselves  to 
the  most  unmistakable  emphasis  which  characterizes  a 
man  when  he  knows  he  is  saying  a  good  thing.  Such 
a  check  is  enough  to  freeze  him  up  for  the  rest  of  the 


44  PUNNING. 

evening,  so  let  him  beware  of  being  out  of  season  with 
unseasonable  wit. 

Long  stories  are  quite  out  of  place  in  general  con- 
versation. There  are  times  when  a  person  is  called  on 
to  relate  a  story,  but  these  are  special.  When  such  an 
occasion  does  occur,  it  is  best  to  meet  the  emergency 
boldly,  and  to  tell  the  story  as  directly,  yet  as  circum- 
stantially, as  your  information  will  allow.  A  good 
story-teller  has  then  a  first-rate  opportunity  to  shine, 
and  it  is  worth  while  to  have  paid  some  attention  to 
the  art  beforehand,  so  as  the  more  thoroughly  to  please 
the  company  and  gain  credit  for  yourself.  Whatever 
is  worth  doing  at  all  is  worth  doing  well.  That  must 
be  our  excuse  for  advising  preparation. 

Short  incidents  and  bon-mots  are  quite  allowable. 
Indeed  they  are  highly  ornamental  and  even  useful  in 
varying  the  style  of  conversation. 

"  A  tale  should  be  judicious,  clear,  succinct, 
The  language  plam,  and  incidents  well  linked; 
Tell  not  as  new  what  everybody  knows, 
And  new  or  old,  still  hasten  to  a  close; 
There  cent'ring  in  a  focus,  round  and  neat, 
Let  all  your  rays  of  information  meet." 


PUNNING. 

Punning  used  to  be  more  respectable  than  it  is  now. 
It  can,  however,  boast  the  example  of  Shakespeare, 
and  some  of  the  finest  wits  that  have  graced  society. 
Punchy  too,  has  so  commended  the  practice  to  our 
notice,  that  the  prejudice  against  it  is  wearing  away. 
Vile  puns  by  conceited  punsters  have  brought  the  thing 


LAUGHTER.  45 

into  disrepute.  A  good  pun,  rising  naturally  out  of 
the  current  of  the  conversation,  is  not  to  be  despised, 
but  there  must  be  nothing  like  an  attempt  to  be  funny 
by  playing  upon  the  words  when  everybody  else  is  seri- 
ously etigaged  in  attending  to  the  thought.  Some  posi- 
tively lay  a  trap  for  it,  and  when  the  opportunity  is 
made  to  present  itself,  pounce  upon  it  immediately ; 
garnish  their  contemptible  game  with  a  few  grins,  and 
toss  it  with  a  conceited  leer  among  their  unfortunate 
victims.  The  trap  is  set  in  many  ways.  The  trap 
enigmatical,  thus  : — Why  is  a  person  beating  his  wife 
like  a  ladies'  tailor  ?  Because  he  is  a  man  milling  her 
{man  milliner).  The  trap  hypothetical,  thus : — If  a 
chairman  were /^/itical,  he  would  certainly  lend  a  help- 
ing hand  to  the  Poles.  The  trap  anecdotical,  thus  : — 
When  the  tyrant  of  Algiers  was  conveyed  to  Naples, 
the  Polacca,  on  board  which  vessel  he  was,  outsailed 
all  the  vessels  which  accompanied  her.  "  Indeed." 
But  you  know  there  was  no  wonder  in  that,  for  she  was 
sure  to  carry  the  Dey. 


LAUGHTER. 

Goldsmith  well  describes  the  "  loud  laugh  *'  as  speak- 
ing "  the  vacant  mind."  He  was  not  far  wrong.  Loud 
laughter  generally  indicates  a  lamentable  absence  of 
due  mental  occupation.  Whatever  the  truth  of  the 
matter  may  be,  people  generally  suspect  vacuity  of 
thought  "where  laughter  hath-  such  room  to  ring,"  on 
the  principle  that  "  an  empty  barrel  gives  forth  the 
greatest  sound."     The  "  Preacher  "  tells  us  that 


46  LAUGHTER. 

"  The  noisy  laughter  of  the  fool 
Is  like  the  crackling  sound 
Of  blazing  thorns,  which  quickly  fall 
In  ashes  to  the  ground." 

So  you  see  there  is  not  much  ''  shining  "  stuff  in  this  to 
suit  your  purpose.  There  is,  at  any  rate,  in  the  best 
view  of  it,  much  suspicion  attached,  and  like  Caesar's 
wife,  your  reputation  to  shine  must  be  above  suspicion. 
You  may  laugh  heartily  yet  not  loudly  nor  noisily.  "  I 
have  always  preferred  cheerfulness  to  mirth,"  says  the 
essayist.  It  was  the  instinct  of  good  manners  that 
prompted  the  thought.  Cheerfulness  produces  the 
smile,  and  the  gentle  laugh,  and  fills  the  mind  with  the 
steady  and  constant  serenity  of  the  summer  day. 
Cheerfulness  is  the  best  mood  for  conversation.  It 
is  the  most  easily  sustained  and  the  most  comforta- 
bly enjoyed.  There  are  exceptions  of  course.  Some 
by  their  flashes  of  wit  can  "  set  the  table  in  a  roar.'' 
Then  the  "  roar "  is  proper  and  becoming,  and  the 
restraint  of  it  would  be  pure  affectation. 

Unless  a  person  has  fairly  brought  down  ridicule 
upon  his  own  head,  it  is  highly  unbecoming  to  laugh 
at  him.  It  destroys  that  sympathy  without  which  no 
company  can  feel  comfortable.  Do  not  be  too  suspi- 
cious either  that  people  are  laughing  at  you.  If  you 
behave  properly  and  people  do  laugh  at  you,  it  is  to 
their  own  disadvantage,  not  yours. 

A  laugh  may  often  be  used  judiciously  in  conversa- 
tion to  blunt  the  edge  of  some  sarcasm  that  may  have 
been  ill-naturedly  uttered  against  you.  It  shows  that 
the  barbed  dart  has  not  pierced  your  good  nature,  and 
if  you  follow  it  up  with  a  good-natured  joke  your  vie- 


TABLE   TALK.  47 

tory  is  complete,  and  you  "  shine ''  forth  like  the  sun 
dispersing  a  wintry  cloud. 

The  most  detestable  kind  of  laughter  we  know  is  the 
giggle.  Detestable  enough  in  woman,  it  is  far  more  so 
in  man.  It  is  the  sure  indication  of  not  only  vacuity 
of  thought,  but  of  lightness  of  intellect  and  instability 
of  affection.  It  is  equally  characteristic  of  the  heartless 
coquette  and  the  foppish  man-flirt.  George  Herbert 
has  some  very  sensible  lines  on  laughter;  they  are 
these : — 

**  Pick  out  of  mirth,  like  stones  out  of  thy  ground, 
Profaneness,  filthiness,  abusiveness, 
These  are  the  scum,  with  which  coarse  wits  abound; 
The  fine  may  spare  these  well,  yet  not  go  less. 
All  things  are  big  with  jest :  nothing  that's  plain 
But  may  be  witty,  if  thou  hast  the  vein. 

"  Wit's  an  unruly  engine,  wildly  striking 

Sometimes  a  friend,  sometimes  the  engineer : 
Hast  thou  the  knack  ?  pamper  it  not  with  liking ; 
But  if  thou  want  it,  buy  it  not  too  dear. 
Ma7iy  affecting  wit  beyond  their  power 
Have  got  to  be  a  dear  fool  for  an  hour, 

"  A  sad  wise  valor  is  the  brave  complexion. 

That  leads  the  van,  and  swallows  up  the  cities. 
The  giggler  is  a  milkmaid^  whom  infection. 
Or  a  fired  beacon  frighteth  from  his  ditties.    . 
Then  he's  the  sporty  the  mirth  then  in  him  rests, 
And  the  sad  ma7t  is  cock  of  all  his  jests  y 


TABLE   TALK. 

Table  talk  is  a  sphere  in  which  the  most  distinguished 
may  have  endeavored  to  shine.     Volumes  of  their  table 


48  TABLE   TALK. 

talk  have  been  published,  and  this  aphoristic  literature 
is  held  in  high  esteem.  While  the  dinner  is  being 
served,  the  prelude  to  the  conversation  is  being  carried 
on.  Now  is  the  favorable  time  for  gaining  a  knowledge 
of  the  different  individuals  with  whom  you  are  to  pass 
the  next  few  hours.  At  this  period  the  tone  of  conver- 
sation is  not  very  high  pitched.  The  topics  are  gener- 
ally of  a  commonplace  kind,  for  as  yet  you  have  no 
common  ground  on  which  to  meet  your  associates. 
The  weather — what's  new — the  interchange  of  civilities 
— public  amusements  form  a  starting  point.  The  asso- 
ciation of  ideas  and  their  interchange  keep  up  the  flow. 
Gradually  mind  discloses  itself  to  mind,  and  the  mere 
talk  passes  into  genuine  conversation.  The  common- 
place topics  enable  us  to  form  an  estimate  of  the  com- 
pany— to  distinguish  the  talkative  from  the  taciturn, 
the  quick  from  the  dull,  the  cheerful,  jovial  man  from 
the  slow  and  the  sour. 

If  you  desire  to  shine  to  advantage  at  dinner,  order 
and  husband  your  topics  like  the  courses  that  come 
before  you,  for  a  great  deal  depends  on  the  inclination 
of  your  associates  to  listen  to  you.  Let  them  be  light 
at  first  and  more  substantial  as  you  proceed,  and  if  you 
have  wit,  spend  it  judiciously  in  seasoning  all. 

During  the  soup  course,  conversation  is  almost  en- 
tirely dispensed  with.  The  minds  of  all  are  generally 
engrossed  with  one  topic,  and  to  talk  upon  that  topic  is 
forbidden  by  the  laws  of  dinner  etiquette.  The  animal 
appetite  must  be  silenced  before  the  rational  faculty  is 
allowed  to  play. 

After  the  first  course,  you  may  begin  to  feel  the 
pulse  of  your  neighbor,  or  vis-a-vis,  by  some  little  ap- 


AFTER   DINNER.  49 

proach  to  gayety,  but  beware  of  attracting  general  atten- 
tion. At  the  second  course  the  appetite  begins  to 
abate,  and  a  restraining  pause  ensues.  Now  they  like 
nothing  better  than  to  talk  and  listen  for  a  short  time. 
This  is  the  time  for  the  interchange  of  pleasantries, 
and  short  lively  anecdotes.  But  don't  bother  the  mind 
with  any  serious  work  to  do,  for  it  is  still  under  the 
sway  of  the  stomach,  and  will  not  brook  anything  that 
requires  sustained  attention.  People  resent  anything 
that  looks  like  an  attempt  to  spoil  their  dinner  or  the 
digestion  of  it 

As  the  courses  proceed  you  may  open  out  more 
freely,  for  all  are  becoming  emancipated  from  the 
dominion  of  physical  appetite,  and  the  mental  is  now 
decidedly  in  the  ascendant.  Beware  still,  however,  of 
boring  your  neighbors  with  too  heavy  talk,  or  too  con- 
tinuous, for  the  reign  of  free  uninterrupted  conversation 
has  not  yet  begun. 

But  when  the  desert  is  on  the  table — when  the  ripe 
delicate  fruit  is  set,  and  the  sparkling  wines  stream  from 
the  crystal,  then  let  flow  your  raciest  thoughts — your 
wit — your  humor — your  fancies — whatever  you  may 
excel  in.  No  restraint  is  needed  now  but  that  of  good 
sense,  sound  judgment  and  manly  courtesy. 

AFTER   DINNER. 

After  dinner  the  subject  of  conversation  should  be  of 
a  light  and  entertaining  character,  such  as  the  general 
news  or  current  literature  of  the  day.  Keep  pace  with 
the  tenor  of  the  conversation  around  you.  Carefully 
guard  against  the  wily  wine  stealing  away  your  brains. 
4 


5^  ACCOMPLISHMENTS- 

Then  the  tongue  loosens  itself  and  runs  off,  or  floun- 
ders in  the  mud  of  a  thick  utterance  or  a  plunging 
stuttering-  Shun  all  approaches  to  argument  or  discus- 
sion ;  you  are  not  met  to  draw  conclusions,  but  to 
accept  them  from  each  other  in  a  friendly  way.  For 
this  reason  politics  is  generally  forbidden  as  an  article 
of  conversation,  for  in  a  mixed  company  there  is  sure  to 
be  a  difference  of  opinion,  and  men  think  too  keenly 
upon  that  to  talk  amicably  about  it.  Besides,  it  is 
extremely  suggestive  of  the  hot  electioneering  party 
spirit  we  witness  so  often  when  summoned  to  record 
our  thought  by  actual  vote.  Should  any  one  be  so  rude 
as  to  turn  a  joke  upon  you,  turn  the  laugh  as  good  natur- 
edly  as  you  can  upon  himself,  but  avoid  collision  with 
any  one  as  much  as  possible.  Toasts  are  going  out  of 
fashion  except  at  public  entertainments.  A  well-told 
ancedote  or  a  clever  conundrum  is  about  the  only  kind 
of  public  solo  you  can  venture  on. 

When  you  have  joined  the  ladies,  alter  your  style 
entirely.  Should  the  evening  be  fine  and  you  take  a 
turn  in  the  garden,  you  find  yourself  paired  off  with  a 
companion.  Should  that  companion  be  of  the  fair  sex, 
entertain  her  with  the  language  of  Flora,  or  the  poetry 
of  flowers,  or  some  such  sentimental  subject.  Should 
you  be  linked  to  a  gentleman,  you  may  narrow  the 
choice  of  your  subject,  and  select  that  which  you  know 
he  is  the  most  intimately  conversant  with. 

ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

There  is  not  a  more  legitimate  method  of  "  shining 
in  society  "  than  through  what  are  termed  "  accomplish- 


ACCOMPLISHMENTS.  5 1 

ments."  There  are  the  active  fields  of  science,  litera- 
ture, and  art  to  choose  accomplishments  from,  according 
to  the  taste  of  the  chooser. 

Science,  or  the  knowledge  of  things,  is  as  wide  as 
creation,  and  as  interesting  to  intelligent  minds.  Its 
wonders  are  inexhaustible  ;  and  he  who  is  conversant 
with  them  can  always  have  it  in  his  power  to  promote 
conversation  of  the  loftiest  kind.  He  is  the  privileged 
exhibitor  of  the  beautiful  spectacle  of  the  universe,  and 
his  intelligent  audience  gladly  pay  him  for  his  enter- 
tainment, by  feelings  of  gratitude,  admiration,  and  re- 
spect. 

Literature  is  one  in  which  elegant  minds  delight  to 
shine.  In  this,  human  nature  refines  itself  by  finding 
itself  mirrored  back  in  ideal  forms.  The  idealization 
of  our  being  need  not  spend  itself  in  mere  ideas.  The 
thoughts  in  our  minds,  the  words  upon  our  lips  may  be 
purified  and  refined  by  this  idealizing  process  couched 
in  the  study  of  literature,  and  yet  be  as  true,  as  good, 
and  as  strong  as  before.  The  action  too  is  not  im- 
paired— it  is  that  of  a  higher  being. 

Both  science  and  literature  have  great  thoughts  for 
expression,  and  he  who  can  express  them  greatly  will 
always  be  deemed  a  great  man.  Nor  can  we  cultivate 
them  without  getting  into  the  society  of  great  men,  and 
unconsciously  borrowing  something  of  their  greatness. 
It  is  said,  with  a  deal  of  truth,  that  a  man  is  known  by 
the  society  he  keeps.  If,  then,  you  show  that  you 
have  been  in  the  company  of  such  as  Homer,  Shake- 
speare, Galileo,  or  Buffon,  you  will  be  known  only  for 
what  is  noble  and  good.  On  a  woodland  excursion  he 
who  can  find  "  sermons  in  stones,  books  in  the  running 


52  ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

brooks,  and  good  in  everything  "  will  shine  to  greater 
advantage  than  he  who  babbles  talk  foreign  to  the 
lovely  world  that  surrounds  him,  and  that  is  constantly 
projecting  the  loveliest  pictures  on  the  tablet  of  his 
mind. 

A  knowledge  of  languages,  ancient  or  modern,  or 
both,  with  their  literatures,  has  great  weight  in  society, 
and  makes  a  man  shine  more  powerfully  than  the  little 
"art,"  which  shows  off  accomplishments  that  are 
merely  surface  deep.  Nothing  is  considered  more  the 
mark  of  a  gentleman  than  an  acquaintance  with  the 
classics,  ancient  or  modern.  True,  it  sometimes  de- 
generates into  pedantry  ;  but  that  is  the  abuse,  not  the 
use  of  it.  Thought  is  of  course  a  higher  sphere  of  con- 
versation than  mere  language,  but  the  Attic  salt  is  con- 
sidered best  as  a  seasoner  by  average  minds,  and  you 
cannot  always  have  the  pleasing  of  your  own  judgment 
as  to  what  is  best. 

Art  is  another  very  extensive  field  for  the  display  of 
your  ability  to  shine.  If  you  have  the  power  itself  it 
gives  you  more  authority  to  speak,  for  you  are  thereby 
enabled  to  form  juster  opinions  that  can  stand  criti- 
cism. 

But  whatever  range  of  studies  you  enter  upon  for  the 
proper  fitting  out  of  your  mind,  avoid  furnishing  it  with 
such  articles  as,  however  useful  in  their  own  proper 
sphere,  are  quite  out  of  place  as  items  of  furniture  in 
your  mind.  By  way  of  warning,  let  us  show  you  a 
pedant  with  all  his  quaint  nick-nackery  of  mental 
furniture. 


PEDANTRY.  53 

PEDANTRY. 

A  pedant  is  generally  a  puzzle  of  a  man — his  knowl- 
edge and  his  ignorance  are  both  in  extremes.  He 
knows  a  huge  mass  of  what  nobody  else  cares  to 
know,  and  does  not  care  to  know  a  huge  mass  of  what 
everybody  else  would  feel  ashamed  to  be  ignorant.  He 
knows»a  good  deal  more  about  the  Greeks  and  Romans 
than  about  the  people  he  is  living  among.  He  may  not 
be  able  to  find  his  way  to  the  next  street,  yet  he  is  in- 
timately acquainted  with  the  buildings  of  ancient  Rome, 
and  the  several  quarters  of  ancient  Jerusalem.  He  knows 
exactly  the  dimensions  of  the  Forum  Boarium,  but  would 
feel  insulted  by  a  question  about  those  of  our  own  bazaar. 
He  would  express  extreme  indignation  and  contempt  if 
asked  to  handle  a  cricket  bat  or  an  oar,  but  he  will  dis- 
course learnedly  on  the  Trochus  or  the  Trireme.  He 
is  not  able  to  distinguish  a  quadrille  from  a  polka,  but 
he  can  detail  all  the  evolutions  of  the  Pyrrhic  dance. 
He  has  written  a  dissertation  on  the  Lydian  and  Dorian 
Moods,  but  he  can't  see  any  great  difference  between  a 
Highland  pibroch  and  an  oratorio  of  Handel  or  Bee- 
thoven. He  is  equally  ignorant  of  sculpture  and  paint- 
ing. He  talks  indeed  about  Phidias  and  Praxiteles,  be- 
cause he  finds  them  mentioned  in  his  classic  authors  ; 
but  he  puts  no  value  on  Thorwaldsen  or  Turner ;  and 
even  when  you  place  him  before  the  Elgin  Marbles,  he 
feels  interested  in  them  only  in  so  far  as  they  settle  the 
m^eaningof  some  disputed  passage.  His  physician  has 
impressed  on  him  the  necessij;y  of  exercise,  but  'tis  al- 
most a  matter  of  course  he  doesn't  know  how  to  take  a 
walk.     He  sees  no  beauty  in  the  face  of  Nature — or  if 


54  PEDANTRY. 

there  comes  across  his  mind  a  recollection  of  a  time 
when  he  did  delight  to  look  upon  it,  this  natural  feeling 
soon  evaporates  in  a  musty  quotation.  Parallel  pas- 
sages in  Greek  and  Latin  he  can  cite  without  limit — 
and  there  are  few  words  whose  quantity  he  has  not 
some  line  of  poetry  ready  to  determine.  But  worth  of 
sentiment  and  felicity  of  expression  are  lost  on  him. 
Though  he  prates  about  the  sublimity  of  ^schylus,  and 
the  philosophy  of  Euripides,  he  is  not  terrified  by 
Macbeth,  does  not  speculate  with  Hamlet.  His  pride 
comes  to  back  his  ignorance,  and  he  regards  as  vulgar 
and  mechanical  all  that  he  does  not  know,  and  every- 
thing that  he  cannot  do.  He  looks  with  affected  con- 
tempt on  fishing  and  shooting,  fencing  and  dancing, — 
he  doesn't  swim — he  doesn't  play  cards,  chess,  or  bag- 
atelle— he  went  once  to  the  theatre  to  see  Antigone — 
but  he  has  an  infinite  horror  of  all  kinds  of  amusements. 
We  have  known  only  one  of  this  class  who  had  in 
his  composition  a  fine  vein  of  natural  humor ;  but  he  is 
sometimes  not  without  pretension  to  wit.  He  even 
makes  puns ;  but  the  analogies  he  discovers  have  al- 
ways one  term  at  least  in  the  dread  unknown  of  school 
cram.  He  suggests  the  propriety  of  naming  streets 
after  the  five  Predicables — assigning  one  to  people  of 
substance — another  to  people  of  quality,  etc.,  and  argues 
against  the  illogical  procedure  of  landlords  who  insist 
upon  their  tenants  coming  to  a  conclusion  on  the  sub- 
ject of  rent  before  they  have  granted  them  the  premises. 
Should  you  happen  to  hear  him  discoursing  upon  some 
favorite  theme,  you  might  think  his  intellectual  activity 
unbounded ;  yet  in  this  point  he  is  the  most  slothful 
man    alive ;  he   thinks   none,   he   merely   remembers. 


PEDANTRY.  55 

Reading  is  to  him  just  an  intemperate  habit,  like  dram- 
drinking;  he  has  accustomed  himself  to  a  stimulus 
which  his  enfeebled  mind  can  no  longer  want.  He  has 
become  so  habituated  to  the  authority  of  books,  that  he 
has  forgot  that  judgment  has  any  authority.  Although 
he  has  a  prodigious  acquaintance  with  other  people's 
ideas — of  all  people  in  the  world  he  has  fewest  of  his 
own.  He  looks  at  everything  as  reflected  in  other  men's 
minds — the  broad  daylight  streaming  from  the  thing 
itself  blinds  him.  Books  are  called  spectacles  through 
which  we  look  at  the  world — to  him  books  are  blue 
spectacles  that  keep  the  strong  light  from  his  weak 
eyes,  and  tint  everything  with  their  own  hue.  He 
thinks  with  his  books,  as  a  cripple  walks  with  his 
crutches,  and  he  is  always  behind  when  the  angel. comes 
down  to  stir  the  waters.  Thoughts  that  live  and  work 
in  the  heart  of  ages  acquire  value  to  him  only  when  he 
gets  them  served  up  in  printer's  ink  and  parchment, 
as  dilettanti  care  little  for  Pharaoh's  daughter,  who 
walked  with  her  maidens  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  but 
put  great  value  on  her  when  salted  and  swaddled  and 
boxed  in  a  mummy  case.  He  is  a  very  child  in  the 
ways  of  the  world.  He  doesn't  take  any  interest  in  his 
next-door  neighbor,  though  he  may  have  known  him 
since  he  was  a  child — he  takes  far  more  interest  in  the 
genealogies  of  the  Cassars  or  the  Scipios,  He  can't 
appreciate  honest  manliness  in  any  but  Aristides  or 
Cato,  He  can  pronounce  an  oration  on  the  character 
of  Pericles,  or  Pompey,  but  cannot  tell  whether  or  not 
his  most  intimate  friend  is  a  knave  or  a  numskull.  He 
never  reads  the  debates  in  Parliament — but  sometimes 
looks  at  the  column  of  varieties.     He  reads  some  novels 


56  PEDANTRY. 

— Valerius  and  the  Fawn  of  Sertorius — and  expresses 
his  regret  that  Shakespeare's  Roman  plays  have  so  lit- 
tle of  the  Roman  spirit.  When  he  goes  to  church  he 
uses  the  Greek  Testament  and  the  Septuagint — and  not 
unfrequently  laments  that  our  vernacular  has  failed  in 
expressing  Che  force  of  this  tense  or  that  particle.  Dur- 
ing sermon  he  employs  himself  in  reconciling  Griesbach 
and  Tischendorf,  or  keeps  a  sharp  lookout  for  slips  in 
the  minister's  grammar,  or  fallacies  in  his  argument. 

A  one-sided  being  stamped  with  any  portion  of  the 
preceding  feature  is  certain  of  proving  a  bore  in  any 
intelligent  society.  He  can  be  endured  only  by  being 
made  a  butt  for  pleasantries  and  ridicule.  Indeed,  we 
ourselves  in  describing  our  ideal  of  a  learned  pedant 
have  not  been  able  to  restrain  our  pen  from  carica- 
ture. 

But  pedantry  is  not  confined  to  learning  alone. 
There  is  pedantry  wherever  there  is  persevering  "mono- 
talk  "  on  any  subject,  simply  because  we  know  it  partic- 
ularly>*v'ell,  to  the  evident  "  boring "  of  the  company. 
Such  is  the  case  of  a  merchant  talking  *'  shop,"  or  a 
clergyman  talking  "church.''  Remember,  however, 
that  it  is  not  the  talking  well  and  thoroughly  on  a  sub- 
ject that  constitutes  pedantry.  It  is  the  keeping  of  it 
up  when  the  others  desire  to  let  it  drop,  or  the  intro- 
duction of  an  outrd  subject  in  which  the  others  have  no 
common  interest. 

Some  have  a  habit  of  preaching  their  opinions  in  con- 
versation. This  is  very  disagreeable  and  unwise. 
Your  opinions,  if  you  wish  them  expressed  most  effec- 
tively, will  have  a  much  better  chance  of  being  enter- 
tained if  they  are  suggested  modestly.     Some  learned 


PEDANTRY.  57 

men,  proud  of  their  knowledge,  speak  only  to  decide, 
and  to  let  you  know  pretty  plainly  by  their  imperious 
manner  that  their  decision  is  not  to  be  appealed  from. 
Even  though  they  should  speak  nothing  but  the  truth, 
men  are  at  once  inclined  to  dissent,  and  even  to  serve 
them  with  a  return  in  kind.  The  more  you  know,  the 
more  modest  should  you  be,  if  your  knowledge  has 
done  you  the  good  it  was  intended.  Remember  Sir 
Isaac  Newton,  who  compared  himself  with  all  his  learn- 
ing to  a  child  gathering  pebbles  on  the  sea-shore  ;  so 
little  did  he  think  of  what  even  he  had  gathered  on 
this  shore  of  time.  Even  where  you  are  sure,  do  not 
press  it  dogmatically ;  represent  but  do  not  pronounce  ; 
and  if  you  would  convince  others,  be  open  to  convic- 
tion yourself. 

Our  modern  education  is  becoming  less  and  less 
pedantic.  The  ancients  are  not  worshipped  with  the 
reverence  they  once  were.  "  We  are  the  ancients,"  is 
the  common-sense  cry  now,  for  we  are  older  in  knowl- 
edge and  art  than  they.  Formerly,  when  Latin  and 
Greek  were  the  only  humanities  studied  at  school  and 
college,  the  ancients  were  talked  of  as  something  more 
than  men,  and  the  moderns  as  something  less.  Speak 
of  the  moderns  without  contempt,  and  of  the  ancients 
without  idolatry.  Judge  them  all  by  their  merits, 
whether  old  or  new,  and  never  stoop  to  the  authority 
of  any  writer  if  your  considerate  judgment  tells  you 
that  he  is  not  to  be  trusted. 

Some  great  scholars  almost  absurdly  draw  empiric 
maxims,  both  for  public  and  private  life,  from  what 
they  call  parallel  cases  in  the  ancient  authors,  without 
considering  that  in  the  first  place,  there  never  were  two 


58  SOCIAL   CHARACTERS. 

cases  exactly  parallel ;  and  in  the  next  place,  there 
never  was  a  case  known — much  less  stated — with  all 
its  circumstances  and  conditions,  by  any  historian. 
Wise  saws  and  instances,  ancient  or  modern,  have  un- 
doubtedly great  authority,  but  should  be  regarded 
rather  as  enforcements  than  proofs.  Reason  upon  the 
case  itself,  taking  into  due  consideration  the  circum- 
stances and  conditions.  Look  upon  analogies  as  helps 
only,  not  as  guides. 

SOCIAL   CHARACTERS. 

The  characters  that  infest  the  social  circle  are  as 
varied  as  the  faces  that  denote  them.  There  is  the 
silent  man,  who,  where  all  are  talking,  seldom  ventures 
to  open  his  mouth.  The  reason  is  various.  It  may  be 
through  diffidence  of  his  ability  or  dread  of  impropriety, 
or  because  no  one  has  taken  the  trouble  to  tap  him  and 
make  him  run.  Then  there  is  the  noisy  man  who 
seems  to  love  so  much  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  that 
it  predominates  everywhere.  He  boils  and  fizzes 
eternally,  and  may  boil  over,  but  never  evaporates. 
His  steam  is  inexhaustible.  He  talks  for  talking's  sake^ 
To  silence  him  you  agree  with  him,  but  he  is  not 
silenced.  Sooner  than  that  he  will  turn  round  and  eat 
up  his  own  arguments  to  prolong  the  discussion.  He 
is  always  in  tbe  right.     You  have  no  refuge  but 

"  To  twirl  your  thumbs,  fall  back  into  your  chair, 
Fix  on  the  wainscot  a  distressful  stare, 
And,  when  you  hope  his  blunders  are  all  out, 
Reply  discreetly — to  be  sure — no  doubt !  " 


SOCIAL   CHARACTERS.  59 

There  is  the  doubtful  man  who  knows  nothing 
positively.  You  can't  catch  him  tripping  in  a  hurry. 
He  hedges  himself  round  with  humbly  hoping,  and  pos- 
sibly presuming.  He  remembers  if  he  does  not  forget, 
and  thinks  he  saw,  but  would  not  swear  he  did. 

"  His  evidence,  if  he  were  called  by  law 
To  swear  to  some  enormity  he  saw, 
For  want  of  prominence  and  just  relief, 
Would  hang  an  honest  man  and  save  a  thief." 

There  is  the  positive  man,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
pronounces  judgment  without  the  least  hesitation. 
Ordinary  mortals  base  their  opinions  upon  proof,  but 
he  requires  none. 

"  Without  the  means  of  knowing  right  from  wrong, 
He  always  is  decisive,  clear  and  strong." 

He  wonders  you  can't  see  the  thing  in  the  same  light 
with  him,  and  sets  you  down  for  a  very  stupid  fellow 
in  consequence.     He 

"  Flings  at  your  head  conviction  in  the  lump. 
And  gains  remote  conclusions  at  a  jump." 

There  are  the  disputatious  men  who  dispute  about 
everything,  and  quarrel  with  everybody.  They  con- 
sider conversation  a  sparring  match,  and  planting  hits 
the  great  end  of  it.  They  become  terribly  excited 
w^hen  opposition  warms  them  into  thorough  exercise, 
and  stop  at  nothing  to  make  themselves  and  their  argu- 
ments triumphant.  The  best  method  of  stopping 
their  play  is  to  give  them  nobody  to  fence  with,  and  if 
they  assault  any  one,  let  them  be  proclaimed  victorious 
before  the  fight  begins.  , 


Co  SOCIAL   CHARACTERS. 

There  is  the  hypochondriac  maletudinarian  who  is 
always  talking  of  his  ailings.  He  always  breathes  an 
atrabilarious  atmosphere  of  colds  and  coughs  and  in- 
digestionSj  and  blue-pill  recoveries.  He  entertains  you, 
as  if  you  were  his  nurse  or  his  doctor,  with  a  long 
catalogue  of  bilious  experiences,  until  you  begin  to 
think  that  they  are  contagious  disorders,  and  feel  all 
wrong  as  well  as  he.  You  find  yourself  pulling  a  long 
face,  while  those  around  you  broaden  with  healthy 
grins.  You  feel  as  in  a  wet  blanket  and  damp  night- 
cap. You  are  miserable  and  can't  stand  it  longer. 
You  break  in  pieces  the  cenotaph  of  vapors  he  has 
been  erecting  around  you  by  a  sudden  burst  of  re- 
covered cheerfulness,  slap  him  on  the  shoulder  with  a 
"  begone,  dull  care,"  and  warm  yourself  again  with  the 
sunny  eyes  and  merry  countenances  that  are  beaming 
all  round  you.  You  were  caught  once ;  you  never 
shall  be  again.  You  know  the  maletudinarians  by  the 
shadows  they  cast  around  them. 

There  is  the  fretful  man  who  seems  to  find  pleasure 
only  in  being  displeased.  Nothing  is  said  or  done  to  his 
mind.  The  room  is  either  too  hot  or  too  cold.  His 
stomach  seems  out  of  order;  his  brain  is  out  of  order; 
and  of  course  his  heart  and  his  tongue  follow  suit.  He  is 
restless  and  impatient,  talking  at  random,  and  ever  by 
fits  and  starts.  He  is  on  good  terms  with  nobody,  not 
even  with  himself.  He  says  a  thousand  extravagant 
things,  and  these  in  an  ill-natured  tone  of  voice.  He 
cares  not  who  takes  offence  at  his  ill-natured  remarks, 
and  is  rather  gratified  than  otherwise  if  you  complain 
or  resent.  He  is  unhappy  himself,  and,  so  far  as  he 
can,  makes  others  unhappy  also. 


THE   LADIES.  6l 

Such  characters  as  the  foregoing  are  a  few  of  many 
hindrances  to  the  natural  current  of  genial  conversation 
which 

"  Should  flow  like  waters  after  summer  showers," 

filling  our  minds  with  freshening  streams  of  thought 
and  our  hearts  with  the  babble  of  gladness. 

THE   LADIES. 

Young  men  are  proverbially  fond  of  "  making  a 
figure ''  when  they  enter  polite  society ;  especially 
when  fair  eyes  are  bent  upon  them,  and  their  hearts 
are  still  disengaged,  there  is  a  romantic  charm  that 
fascinates  them  with  an  intense  desire  to  please.  How 
circumspect  they  are  !  ever  dreading  to  commit  some 
incongruous  action  for  which  they  may  be  laughed  at. 
Gallantry,  indeed,  is  the  great  play  of  every  social 
gathering.  "  Place  aux  dames  "  supersedes  every  other 
consideration. 

Few  love  to  hear  ill  of  themselves.  Ladies  espe- 
cially dislike  it.  We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  you 
must  consider  them  faultless,  but  the  more  you  respect 
and  admire  them,  the  purer  and  pleasanter  will  be  your 
intercourse  with  them.  It  is  the  custom  now-a-days  to 
sneer  at  Platonic  attachments,  but  it  is  one  great  feat- 
ure of  our  Christian  religion  that  such  relations  may 
and  ought  to  exist.  The  society  of  ladies  is  indispensa- 
ble to  the  young  man  who  is  desirous  of  polishing  his 
manner  to  any  degree  of  refinement.  Woman  is  insep- 
arable from  every  advance  we  make  in  life.  When  the 
child  is  clasped  to  the  mother's  bosom,  the  first  impres- 


62  HOW   TO   DRESS. 

sions  of  intelligence  are  conveyed  in  love  from  her  eyes. 
Soon  that  tender  love  stirs  up  emotions  in  its  little 
heart.  Anon  her  gentle  will  guides  with  discretion  its 
thoughtless  wishes.  The  same  relation  holds  good  in 
after  life.  It  is  matter  of  notoriety  that  great  men 
generally  have  had  noble  mothers.  It  has  been  said, 
too,  with  much  truth,  that  all  great  men  have  had  much 
of  woman's  nature  in  their  composition.  Woman 
moulds  us  more  than  we  are  willing  to  allow,  and 
history  attests  the  fact  that  she  has  seriously  affected 
even  the  fates  of  empires. 

Young  men  then  need  not  be  ashamed  to  court  the 
society  of  the  ladies  as  a  positive  item  of  their  training. 
Some  frequent  their  company  to  trifle  and  amuse 
themselves.  Such  congregating  is  beneath  the  dignity 
of  being  styled  society. 


HOW  TO   DRESS. 

"  The  beauty  of  dress,"  says  Dr.  Gregory,  "  consists 
in  not  being  conspicuous.''  Quiet  dressing  is  ever  the 
best.  Dressiness  is  what  detraction  will  lay  hold  of  at 
once,  for  it  proclaims  itself  and  invites  censure.  The 
art  of  dressing  is  just  the  art  of  draping  the  human  form 
so  as  to  exhibit  it  to  the  best  advantage.  We  do  not 
mean  the  mere  draping  of  a  statue,  for  there  is  action 
in  the  human  form  which  the  statue  wants.  The 
beautiful  outlines  of  the  human  figure  form  the  ground- 
work of  the  '*  cut,  "  as  it  is  expressively  termed,  of  our 
'clothes.  Those  outlines  should  neither  be  concealed 
nor  distorted.     Fashion,  it  is  true,  is  not  always  synony- 


DANCING.  63 

mous  with   good  taste   in  this   respect,  and  modifies 
somewhat  the  manner  in  which  we  ought  to  dress. 

The  body  is  more  dressed  than  the  mind,  we  fear,  in 
average  society,  and  this  may  be  because  it  is  sooner 
dressed.  But  this  should  not  be,  and  will  not  be  ere 
long.  The  atmosphere  of  society  is  becoming  less 
showy  and  more  "  spirituelle."  The  flow  of  soul  is 
taking  the  place  of  mere  talk. 

DANCING. 

It  is  not  so  easy  now  as  of  old  to  dance  yourself  into 
the  good  graces  of  a  company.  Long  ago  people  did 
actually  "  trip  it  on  the  light  fantastic  toe,*'  and  were 
admired  for  it,  but  not  so  now.  All  that  is  required  of 
you  is  to  keep  time,  and  keep  the  figure.  If  you  obey 
the  impulse  of  the  music  and  really  dance,  you  are  set 
down  as  a  skip-jack  or  a  dancing-master.  No  mistake 
but  this  is  eminently  absurd,  but  so  it  is,  and  fashion  is 
peremptory.  If  pianists  were  to  play,  as  dancers  dance, 
without  any  accent  or  articulation  or  variety,  what  a 
sorry  thing  it  would  be  altogether.  Let  us  hope  that 
as  fashion  has  changed  it,  fashion  may  change  again 
into  the  good  old  method  of  bounding  merrily  to  the 
musical  impulse  of  the  soul. 

There  is  little  opportunity  for  conversation  during 
dancing.  It  is  all  suggested  by  the  requirements  of 
the  dance,  and  kept  subordinate  to  it,  for  your  atten- 
tion should  be  given  entirely  to  what  you  are  engaged  in 
for  the  present.  There  are  many  little  attentions  and 
civilities,  however,  presenting  themselves,  in  which  you 
may  shine  to  advantage  if  you  lay  hold  of  the  opportu- 


64  THE   ETIQUETTE   OF  CONVERSATION. 

nity.  Presence  of  mind  and  a  desire  to  please  will 
carry  you  successfully  through  them  all. 

The  only  perfume  you  should  allow  yourself  to  be 
redolent  of  in  company,  is  the  freshness  of  health  and 
cleanliness.  Fragrant  scents  are  generally  suspected 
as  employed  to  kill  more  questionable  ones.  Pepper- 
mint on  the  breath  barely  disguises  the  alcoholic  pota- 
tion, and  eau  de  Cologne  will  never  atone  for  a  dirty 
shirt  collar.  Other  things  being  equal,  a  little  perfume 
is  rather  grateful  than  otherwise,  but  beware  of  smell- 
ing rank, — it  is  vulgar  as  well  as  disagreeable, 

"  I  cannot  talk  with  civet  in  the  room, 
A  fine  puss  gentleman  that's  all  perfume ; 
His  odoriferous  attempts  to  please 
Perhaps  might  prosper  with  a  swarm  of  bees," 

or  the  giddy  flies  that  buzz  about  society,  and  are  caught 
with  every  sense  but  that,  which,  though  called  com- 
mon, is  the  most  uncommon  of  all. 


THE   ETIQUETTE   OF   CONVERSATION. 

It  may  be  useful  to  sum  up  a  few  of  the  most  useful 
rules  for  conversation,  that  they  may  be  the  more  read- 
ily borne  in  mind. 

In  general,  people  who  have  not  been  introduced  are 
not  understood  to  be  on  conversing  terms.  In  travel- 
ling more  freedom  is  allowed,  but  even  then  the  conver- 
sation is  but  very  general  unless  special  circumstances 
warrant  otherwise. 

Who  should  begin  a  conversation  it  is  not  easy  to 
say.     Where  there  is  a  doubt  as  to  who  should  begin, 


THE    ETIQUETTE   OF   CONVERSATION.  65 

let  it  be  the  person  of  greatest  importance  in  the  com- 
pany.    But  if  it  be  done  modestly,  any  one  may  begin. 

But  it  is  not  so  difficult  to  begin  a  conversation  as  it 
is  to  carry  it  on  successfully.  Wit  is  by  no  means  a 
sure  card.  Few  can  play  it  well,  and  still  fewer  main- 
tain the  play.  Nor  will  learning  supply  you  with  the 
material  of  the  right  sort  altogether.  That  must  pass 
through  the  alembic  of  your  mind,  and  give  forth  its 
fine  precipitate  of  thought,  and  this  brings  us  to  the 
stuff  of  the  proper  kind  for  conversational  purposes,  for 
conversation  is  but  the  interchange  of  thought.  Learn- 
ing is  dead  inert  matter  that  begets  nothing,  but  thought 
is  living  spirit  and  begets  thought.  It  is  thought  that 
makes  words  winged,  and  the  hours  too.  Look  the 
person  in  the  face  with  whom  you  are  conversing. 
Never  talk  past  him — it  gives  you  an  air  of  insin- 
cerity. Let  your  manner  be  confident  without  being 
bold,  easy  without  being  familiar. 

Talk  neither  too  slowly  nor  too  quickly,  but  with  a 
lively  degree  of  raciness.  Animation  is  indispensable 
to  successful  conversation.  Let  the  tones  of  your  voice 
be  as  musical  as  possible,  steering  equally  clear  of 
"  clipping  "  the  words  of  their  due  amount  of  sound,  or 
of  mouthing  them  with  too  much. 

In  general,  society  never  alludes  to  private  matters. 
Talk  with  the  company  on  subjects  of  general  interest. 
With  learned  men  you  may  talk  of  learned  subjects, 
but  never  inflict  your  superior  knowledge  on  people  of 
more  slender  pretensions.  It  would  be  like  a  rich  man 
displaying  his  gold  against  poorer  men's  copper. 

Never  interrupt  a  speaker  in  what  lie  is  saying.  If 
you  step  before  him  so  unceremoniously,  it  is  courteous 
5 


66  PRUDENCE    IN    CONVERSATION. 

of  him,  indeed,  if  he  does  not  take  the  tempting  oppor- 
tunity of  using  his  foot  to  take  you  out  of  his  way. 

Never  crush  any  subject  of  conversation  and  substi- 
tute one  of  your  own  in  its  stead.  If  you  wish  it 
changed,  wait  till  it  is  exhausted,  or  lead  it  in  the  di- 
rection of  your  own. 

Never  converse  with  a  preoccupied  mind.  Throw 
your  whole  mind  into  it,  else  you  are  sure  to  make  the 
conversation  hang  and  drag  its  "  weary  length  along.'^ 

If  unable  or  not  disposed  to  talk  on  a  subject,  you 
can  listen. 


PRUDENCE  IN  CONVERSATION. 

There  is  not  a  more  necessary  quality  in  conversa- 
tion than  prudence.  Consider  well  what  you  are  going 
to  say  before  you  say  it.  Consider  how  it  will  affect 
yourself,  your  hearers,  or  any  other  person  present  or 
absent.  By  cultivating  the  habit,  a  flash  of  your  mind 
over  it  in  review  will  decide  the  matter  for  you  at  once, 
so  that  it  need  not  check  the  genial  and  uninterrupted 
flow  of  soul. 

The  great  vice  of  conversation  is  detraction.  Its 
piquancy  is  a  sad  temptation,  and  all  are  guilty  of  it 
more  or  less.  But  it  puts  you  in  the  light  of  an  envi- 
ous person,  though  there  may  not  be  a  particle  of  envy 
present  in  the  matter  so  far  as  you  are  concerned. 
The  presence  of  envy,  real  or  attributed,  will  not  help 
you  to  shine.  Speak  of  the  absent  as  you  would  if  they 
were  present  and  heard  you.  Do  not  say  behind  a 
man's  back  what  you  would  not  dare  to  say  to  his  face. 
Besides  the  possible  disgrace  of  having  to   "  eat  your 


PRUDENCE   IN   CONVERSATION.  6/ 

own  words,"  it  is  most  unmanly.  You  can  never  be 
wrong  in  taking  a  good-natured  view  of  the  characters 
of  others.  It  does  you  no  harm ;  possibly  it  may  do 
you  good.  What  you  say  is  not  so  much  at  the  mercy 
of  the  company  to  retail.  Good-natured  remarks,  un- 
less maliciously  perverted,  will  stand  the  saying  over 
again  without  harm  ;  but  ill-natured  are  sure  to  become 
harsher  in  the  carrying.  Evil  speaking  is  a*  most  un- 
manly, un-Christian  habit,  and  should  be  encouraged 
neither  in  ourselves  nor  in  others.  If  a  person  speaks 
evil  of  others  to  you,  be  pretty  sure  that  in  another 
company  he  will  speak  evil  of  you.  Beware  of  it  not 
only  in  yourself,  but  in  others  also. 

If  you  are  wise  you  will  avoid  the  giving  expression 
to  opinions  that  may  be  singular  to  the  company  you 
find  yourself  in — above  all,  opinions  in  religion.  Com. 
pany  is  not  a  place  for  disputation,  and  every  one  is 
as  fond  of  his  opinions  as  you  are  of  yours,  and  is  dis- 
posed to  uphold  them  when  questioned  by  the  state- 
ment of  an  opposite.  You  can  only  startle  and  dis- 
please at  the  best,  should  no  opposition  be  shown  from 
inability  or  good  taste.  If  an  argument  be  started  and 
you  loose  it,  you  feel  that  you  have  not  shone  to  advan- 
tage ;  and  if  you  win  it,  you  have  surely  lost  the  kindly 
feeling  of  those  opposed  to  you. 

Always  be  modest  in  the  expression  of  y6ur  senti- 
ments. Do  not  dogmatically  assert,  even  when  you 
are  certain.  All  appearance  of  force  is  sure  to  be  re- 
sisted. Be  content  with  the  happiness  of  believing 
that  you  are  in  the  right.  If  your  opinions  are  worth 
anything  at  all,  they  will  not  only  be  self-sustaining, 
but  self-comfortino:  also. 


68  PRUDENCE    IN   CONVERSATION. 

Should  an  argument  occur  in  which  you  cannot 
avoid  taking  a  part,  remember  that  he  seems  to  have 
the  best  of  it  that  keeps  his  temper.  Feeling  more 
than  thought  is  the  tone  of  company. 

Take  care  you  do  not  touch  upon  the  infirmities  or 
peculiarities  of  those  present.  It  is  difficult  enough  to 
convince  a  man  himself  of  such,  but  to  expose  him  be- 
fore the  e}'ies  of  assembled  company  is  an  offence  he 
will  never  forgive,  whether  you  are  right  or  wrong.  Be- 
sides, he  feels  bound  to  defend  himself,  and  ends  with 
being  more  confirmed  than  ever  in  his  eccentricity. 

Some  people  are  very  fond  of  "  speaking  their  minds,'' 
which,  when  not  under  proper  restraint,  is  just  another 
name  for  being  rude.  Remember  that  people  are  not 
bound  to  please  you,  and  the  offence  that  makes  you 
speak  your  mind  may  be  in  yourself  and  not  in  them. 
This  is  the  modest  and  charitable  aspect,  and  more  in 
consonance  with  the  disposition  you  ought  to  have 
when  in  company.  If  all  spoke  their  minds  what  a 
chaos  of  thought  and  sentiment  would  the  conversa- 
tion be.  No — we  need  the  oil  of  charity  and  modesty 
and  prudent  reserve  to  lubricate  the  machinery  of  our 
social  converse.  If  this  were  wanting  it  would  be  an 
uninterrupted  jar  and  screech. 

We  must  again  warn  you  against  the  misdirection 
of  your  wit,  if  you  possess  it.  The  safest  plan  is  to 
make  it  general,  for  when  it  flies  at  any  particular 
person  it  may  hit  harder  than  you  intended,  and  blow 
for  blow  may,  begun  in  harmless  fun,  end  in  serious 
earnest.  Nobody,  including  yourself,  likes  to  be 
laughed  at. 

Never  hesitate  to  apologize  when  you  have  done  a 


PRUDENCE   IN   CONVERSATION.  69 

wrong.  The  next  best  thing  to  the  not  having  done  it 
at  all,  is  the  trying  to  undo  it  by  tendering  your  sincere 
regret  at  having  done  it. 

Perfect  ease  in  behavior  and  conversation  is  the  tem- 
per to  arrive  at,  and  that  is  wonderfully  assisted  in  be- 
ing gained  by  attending  more  to  the  humor  of  the  com- 
pany than  to  your  own.  As  conversation  is  truly  said 
to  "fTow,"  remember  that  you  are  only  one  particle  of 
the  fluid,  and  so  move  freely  and  pleasantly  with  the 
others.  If  there  be  acid  in  your  composition  it  will 
tinge  the  whole  with  sourness,  if  you  do  not  hold  it 
within  yourself  in  secret  solution.  Taint  not  then  with 
any  egotistic  humor  "  the  genial  current  of  the  soul." 
Rather  flow  v;ith  the  others.  If  you  rise  to  the  surface 
of  the  general  current,  you  may  shine  as  you  flow. 

If  there  be  any  one  worthy  of  imitation,  imitate  him 
in  his  excellence,  but  not  in  his  defects.  None  are 
perfect ;  all  have  defects  and  faults  more  or  less.  Be 
sure  you  discriminate,  else  you  run  the  risk  of  being 
simply  an  ape.  You  ought  not  even  to  copy  closely 
what  he  shines  in.  You  must  imitate  him  judiciously, 
and  in  conformity  with  your  own  manner.  Just  as, 
though  you  may  imitate  the  cut  of  a  person's  clothes 
which  you  may  consider  will  become  you,  yet  you  do 
not  take  his  precise  measurements,  nor  the  arrange- 
ments to  meet  his  personal  peculiarities.  So  though 
you  imitate,  yet  you  judiciously  adapt,  so  as  to  say 
almost,  you  originate  the  excellence  for  yourself.  We 
must  all  imitate  something  or  somebody.  Originality 
is  the  power  to  adapt  and  conform.  There  is  no  orig- 
ination in  the  sense  of  creation  €rom  nothing. 

Show  neither  a  cringing  nor  an  overbearing  spirit. 


70  PRUDENCE   IN   CONVERSATION. 

All  are  upon  a  level  in  conversation.  He  who  bears 
himself  over  the  heads  of  those  whom  he  deems  his  in- 
feriors is  the  very  man  to  cringe  to  those  whom  he 
deems  his  superiors.     Both  are  unmanly  and  impolitic. 

Evenness  of  temper  and  serenity  of  manner  are  ever 
indicative  of  the  true  gentleman.  It  is  the  mood  of 
happiness,  and  affords  the  utmost  enjoyment.  Steer 
equally  clear  of  excitement  and  indifference  ;  of  frolic, 
fun,  and  gloomy  melancholy.  The  even  tenor  of  life 
and  converse  is  the  happiest  and  the  most  profitable. 

There  are  many  minor  considerations  that  enter  into 
prudence  in  conversation,  which  may  be  enumerated 
with  advantage. 

Do  not  spend  your  power  to  the  utmost.  Use  it  so 
that  you  may  appear  to  have  more  than  you  spend. 

Praise  your  friends,  and  leave  it  to  your  friends  to 
praise  you.  It  never  can  come  gracefully  from  your- 
self. 

You  need  not  tell  all  the  truth,  but  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  that  all  you  tell  be  true.  Some,  however, 
may  have  a  right  to  know  all  the  truth.  And  again,  if 
withholding  part  of  the  truth  discolor  the  rest,  give  it 
all  or  none  at  all. 

Despise  not  another  for  not  possessing  talent  which 
you  may  happen  to  have.  All  have  not  the  same  tal*" 
ents.     He  may  have  one  you  yourself  do  not  own. 

If  you  risk  breaking  jests  upon  others,  you  must  be 
prepared  to  have  them  showered  upon  yourself. 

Do  not  talk  too  fast,  else  you  outrun  your  hearer's 
understanding.  Neither  talk  too  slow,  else  you  fret 
your  hearers  into  impatience  and  disgust. 

Never  let  your   praise  degenerate  into  flattery.     It 


PRUDENCE   IN   CONVERSATION.  7 1 

would   only  please  a  fool,  and  will  vitiate   your   own 
manliness. 

Be  not  too  lavish  of  your  time  in  company.  Men 
are  apt  to  despise  what  they  ^an  have  easily,  and  to 
put  a  value  on  what  is  to  be  had  with  some  difficulty. 

Remember  how  often  you  have  changed  your  opin- 
ion, and  do  not  be  too  dogmatic ;  nor  be  angry  with 
those  who  seem  to  you  to  be  dogmatically  obstinate. 

You  may  talk  about  things  without  confessing  your- 
self bound  to  certain  opinions.  You  may  profess  safely 
being  in  search  of  the  truth,  but  confessing  your 
opinion  so  frequently  as  to  identify  yourself  with  them 
tends  to  nail  you  down  to  their  profession,  and  lessens 
your  inclination  to  be  open  to  conviction.  We  mean 
of  course  the  unnecessarily  putting  of  them  forward,  for 
there  are  certain  times  and  occasions  when  it  would  be 
unmanly  and  a  want  of  duty  to  conceal  them.  Your 
opinions,  remember,  are  ever  liable  to  be  shaken  until 
you  arrive  at  the  absolute  truth,  which  no  man  can  truly 
say  he  has  attained  for  certain. 

It  has  been  well  said  that  men  repent  speaking  ten 
times  for  once  that  they  repent  keeping  silence. 

When  discussing  do  not  argue  for  the  subject,  but  let 
the  subject  argue  for  itself.  Put  it  thus — so  much  may 
be  said  for  it ;  or  thus — it  commends  itself  to  our  notice. 
If  it  cannot  vindicate  itself,  you  need  not  try  to  do  it 
by  mere  asseveration. 

If  you  are  desirous  of  gaining  the  good  opinion  of 
nny  one,  take  care  how  you  behave  towards  him  the 
first  time  you  meet  him.  First  impressions  form  the 
seed  whence  springs  his  future  opinion  of  you. 

Ladies  abhor  anything  that  Iqqks  like  discussion  ; 


J2  USEFUL  HINTS  FOR  CONVERSATION. 

they  are  the  creatures  of  sentiment  more  than  reason. 
They  feel  what  is  true  and  proper  in  minor  matters 
without  the  pain  or  difficulty  of  thinking  them  out. 

Let  every  one  tell  his  own  story  his  own  way.  It  is 
rude  and  unmannerly  to  interrupt  him  and  begin  to 
teach  him  a  better.  This  is  ever  the  best  mode  with 
illiterate  people,  for  they  are  generally  put  out  when 
trying  any  other  method  than  their  own. 

Be  more  anxious  to  find  in  what  you  agree  with  your 
company,  than  in  what  you  differ.  You  may  retain 
your  own  individuality,  and  yet  contrive  to  chime  in 
agreeably  enough  with  the  others.  Individuality  as- 
sumes the  appearance  of  singularity  when  carried  too 
far. 

Should  you  find  yourself  in  company  which  socially 
may  be  considered  above  you,  do  not  show  your  con- 
sciousness of  it  otherwise  than  by  a  modest,  dignified 
reserve.  If  you  are  received  into  the  conversation  on 
terms  of  equality,  do  not  take  it  as  a  remarkable  con- 
descension. If  you  are  slighted  by  any  one,  break  off 
from  his  converse  with  you ;  if  you  are  slighted  gener- 
ally by  the  company,  retire.  In  both  cases  the  advan- 
tage rests  with  you. 


USEFUL    HINTS    FOR   CONVERSATION. 

If  you  are  familiar  with  your  inferiors,  do  not  be  sur- 
prised if  your  inferiors  are  familiar  with  you.  Show 
respect  to  your  superiors.  Never  attempt  familiarity 
with  theni,  vyhatever  familiarity  they  may  exhibit  tow- 
ards vou. 


USEFUL  HINTS  FOR  CONVERSATION.  73 

Unkindly  witticism  leaves  bitterness  behind  it,  that 
will  poison  the  most  genial  intercourse. 

Learning  paraded  without  judgment  and  prudence 
will  make  you  shine  as  a  solemn  pedantic  fool. 

If  you  are  compelled  to  reprove,  do  it  kindly,  so  as  to 
convey  the  least  possible  offence. 

Never  volunteer  your  advice,  and  even  when  it  is 
asked  give  it  carefully  and  cautiously.  It  is  easier  to 
give  advice  than  to  follow  it,  with  a  prospect  of  success. 
He  who  gives  it  generally  knows  not  all  the  special 
conditions  of  the  case. 

Do  not  hazard  crude  conjectures  regarding  results. 
Things  seldom  turn  out  as  they  are  expected.  Wise 
men  know  this  and  hold  their  peace. 

Never  talk  of  things  in  which  the  company  have  no 
interest.  They  may  force  attention,  but  it  is  sadly  at 
your  expense  in  their  estimate  of  you. 

Never  trumpet  forth  your  own  merit  by  recounting 
actions  in  which  you  may  have  gained  some  credit.  It 
will  detract  from  your  desert  and  from  your  character 
as  a  disinterested  and  well  meaning  person. 

Do  not  "  pronounce  '^  your  sentiments  before  com- 
pany. It  will  make  you  appear  arrogant  and  self-con- 
ceited. 

Despise  no  man's  conversation.  The  meanest  may 
teach  you  something  if  you  know  what  is  intrinsically 
good,  and  if  you  can  approve  and  appraise  it  for  your- 
self. 

Speak  your  sentiments  in  as  few  words  as  possible. 
TedioitS  conversation  is  about  the  most  unbearable 
that  can  be  inflicted  on  a  company.  The  current  of 
talk  ought  to  be  brisk  and  not  sluggish. 


74  USEFUL  HINTS  FOR  CONVERSATION. 

If  any  person  attempts  to  (what  is  vulgarly  but  very 
expressively  termed)  *'  pump  "  you  with  impertinent 
questions,  you  may  politely  foil  him  by  counter  ques- 
tions as  answers  ;  you  may  also  adroitly  turn  the  cur- 
rent in  another  direction.  Some  think  themselves  justi- 
fied in  mystifying  such  a  questioner  with  overwhelming 
exaggeration,  but  this,  though  the  person  deserves  it 
for  his  impertinence,  is  hardly  consistent  with  your  own 
dignity.  Never  think  you  are  justified  in  meeting  his 
question  with  a  lie.     That  would  be  most  unmanly. 

If  people  rail  at  you,  never  show  that  you  are  stung, 
you  thereby  help  the  railers  against  yourself.  A  good 
method  of  disarming  them  is  to  seem  to  join  them 
against  yourself,  carrying  the  raillery  into  the  absurd 
and  the  ridiculous. 

Never  set  up  for  a  critic.  It  is  simply  electing  your- 
self into  being  a  bully  of  opinion.  Those  who  are 
weak  will  fear  and  hate  you ;  those  who  are  strong  will 
resist  and  despise  you. 

Remember  that  few  are  capable  of  judging  of  talents 
or  genius,  but  all  feel  the  difference  between  good  and 
bad  behavior. 

You  may  think  as  wisely  as  you  can,  but  don't  talk 
wisdom  like  an  oracle.  There  is  a  great  difference 
between  talking  wisely  and  well,  and  the  moral  exhibi- 
tion of  yourself  as  a  retailer  of  oracular  nostrums. 

Do  not  talk  too  much,  nor  yet  be  dumb.  An  empty 
barrel  gives  forth  most  sounds  but  the  fullest  one  is  of 
no  use  unless  it  is  tapped  and  runs. 

Do  not  form  your  opinion  of  others  from  isolated 
facts.  A  man  may  misbehave  once  and  again,  and  yet 
be  in  the  main  a  well  behaved  person.     Remember  how 


USEFUL  HINTS  FOR  CONVERSATION.  ^5 

often  you  have  forfeited  your  own  esteem,  and  let  your 
charity  cover  a  multitude  of  sins  in  behavior,  as  in 
other  things. 

If  you  fall  into  an  argument,  the  only  safe  way  to 
find  your  road  out  of  it  is  by  endeavoring  to  come  at 
the  truth,  not  by  attempting  to  defeat  your  opponent. 

He  w^ho  is  modest  and  retiring,  and  waits  judiciously 
for  an  opportunity  to  shine,  has  a  less  chance  of  failure 
than  he  who  is  eager  to  avail  himself  of  every  opportu- 
nity, calculating  a  greater  chance  the  oftener  he  makes 
the  cast. 

If  you  happen  to  find  yourself  on  the  wrong  side  of 
an  argument,  turn  away  from  it  without  coming  to  a 
conclusion,  or  say  handsomely  that  you  consider  your- 
self wrong.  You  may  often  do  this  without  compromis- 
ing your  judgment,  as  in  the  case  of  new  facts  being 
presented,  or  of  facts  having  been  falsely  represented 
to  you,  and  now  seen  in  their  true  light.  But  never 
persevere  obstinately  and  fight  for  your  subject  as  true 
when  you  have  reason  to  believe  it  WTong. 

Do  not  introduce  the  name  of  God  and  the  devil  in 
a  glib,  flippant  manner.  Do  not  misapply  Scripture  al- 
lusions, as  in  jests  and  avoid  the  use  of  all  cant  terms, 
by-words,  and  oath-words.  These  last  are  foolishly  sup- 
posed to  strengthen  speech.  They  are  simply  disgust- 
ing and  contemptible. 

Send  people  from  your  company  well  pleased  with 
themselves,  and  they  will  be  well  pleased  with  you. 

Try  and  get  rid  of  any  little  oddities  you  may  have  in 
your  behavior,  but  do  not  despise  another  though  he 
may  have  some.  We  see  those  of  others  more  readily 
than  we  see  our  own. 


^6  GOOD   TASTE. 

Avoid  the  conduct  of  those  persons  who,  no  matter 
how  serious  the  conversation,  are  ever  striving  to  dart  in 
some  foolish  quirk  or  drollery.  A  jest  to  be  relished 
should  be  thrown  in  naturally. 

Do  not  provoke  any  man.  Weapons  that  cut  do  not 
tend  to  make  you  shine.  Be  not  easily  provoked.  The 
calmer  you  keep  yourself  the  greater  advantage  you  have 
over  your  opponent. 

Be  prudent  in  the  kind  of  company  you  keep.  By 
such  will  you  be  judged,  and  rightly  so,  for  the  constant 
contact  will  polish  you  to  the  level  of  their  lustre. 

GOOD   TASTE. 

Thus  far  the  latter  part  of  our  method  has  been  to 
give  a  detail  of  personal  quality  and  manner,  in  a  series 
of  miscellaneously  arranged  topics;  but  these  will  not 
form  the  power  that  is  necessary  to  produce  them. 
That  power  is  the  working  of  a  principle,  and  this  prin- 
ciple is  to  be  found  in  the  self-moving  power  of  the 
mind  to  guide  itself  along  the  road  of  life,  in  obedience 
to  the  laws  made  by  its  Maker.  We  do  not  want  you 
to  be  made  up  of  patchwork,  or  of  clockwork,  or  of  any- 
thing artificial — we  wish  you  to  be  the  power  in  your 
mind  that  acts  in  your  manner  as  the  law  of  true  polite- 
ness demands.  All  that  you  are  in  your  mind  passes 
off  into  the  world  through  your  acts,  the  manner  of 
which  is  found  to  have  as  much  positive  influence  as 
the  matter — from  which,  however,  it  derives  originally 
all  its  force.  Look  at  the  difference  between  an  elegant 
and  powerful,  and  a  blundering,  impotent  speaker. 
The  former  can  polish  falsehood  into  a  seeming  truth, 


GOOD   TASTE.  ^J 

whilst  the  latter  bedims  and  bedarkens  t'ne  Clearest  ax- 
ioms until  they  become  as  opaque  as  a  mill-stone.  In 
fact,  we  would  wish  you  to  be  what  you  would  seem  to 
be,  and  then  you  will  have  little  trouble  and  much 
pleasure  in  seeming  to  be.  It  is  not  only  the  true  thing, 
but  the  most  effective  and  the  most  pleasant  thing.  We 
take  you  to  be  young,  and  ambitious. of  showing  that 
you  are  worth  something.  You  are  desirous  not  only 
of  a  standing  in  society,  but  ambitious  of  influencing 
that  society  in  a  manner,  creditable  and  pleasant  to 
yourself ;  but  would  scorn  to  stoop  to  unworthy  means 
to  attain  your  end.  In  all  probability,  then,  you  have  re- 
ceived a  good  average  education,  that  will  form  a  good 
ground-work  for  your  endeavor.  As  thinking,  with  its 
processes  and  its  modes,  though  in  itself  the  process  of 
education  so  far  as  the  mind  is  concerned,  is  seldom  or 
never  taken  into  account  at  school,  except  m  so  far  as  it 
cannot  be  done  without,  even  to  have  done  what  is  done, 
you  will  have  to  begin,  if  you  have  not  done  so  before,  to 
study  this  the  great  instrument  of  life  in  all  its  adapta- 
tions. The  best  thinkers  are  the  best  workmen  of  life. 
These  are  the  men  who  carve  time  into  money — not  the 
best  use  of  it  however,  but  a  use  very  potent  with  some. 
This,  however,  has  to  do  with  the  morality  of  thought, 
and  at  present  we  have  to  do  with  the  power.  In  all 
probability  the  real  solid  power  of  your  education  is  now 
about  to  be  formed  and  directed  to  legitimate  issues. 
Energy  and  perseverance  are  required,  and  a  good  deal 
of  self-denial.  Set  your  face  steadily  against  the  small 
pleasures  of  the  world  that  entice  the  precious  time  from 
you  bit  by  bit.  Set  about  your  endeavor  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  an  unavoidable  responsibility.     The  busi- 


78  GOOD   TASTE. 

ness  of  life  now  in  all  likelihood  claims  the  greater  part  of 
your  time.  This  is  the  time  you  are  compelled  by  your 
necessities  to  convert  into  money ,  but  you  may  at  the 
same  time  convert  it  into  something  more — something 
that  will  last  when  your  money  is  gone.  Contact  with 
the  world  in  transacting  your  business  will  sharpen  your 
powers  and  polish  your  manner,  if  you  submit  yourself 
to  the  process  with  proper  aims  and  discriminating  judg- 
ment. There  is  a  worry  in  business,  however,  which 
merely  grinds  without  polishing,  which  ought  to  be 
avoided  if  possible.  Otherwise  the  cheerful  intercourse 
of  business  should  fit  a  man  more  and  more  to  "  shine  '' 
substantially  and  decidedly.  If  truth  be  your  ideal,  as 
it  ought  to  be,  the  veracity  of  your  conversation  and  the 
honesty  of  your  dealings  will  win  you  respect  and  atten- 
tion ;  but  in  addition  it  is  necessary  that  you  cultivate 
elegance  of  taste  in  order  to  win  you  favor. 

This  elegance  of  taste,  or  the  appreciation  of  what  is 
beautiful  in  matter  or  manner,  is  the  polishing  principle 
that  will  enable  you  to  shine  truly.  You  may  be  a  dia- 
mond of  the  first  water,  yet  if  you  do  not  cut  and  polish 
and  set  yourself  with  this  aesthetic  instrument,  you  may 
coruscate,  scintillate,  or  flash  forth  light  at  any  rate, 
but  it  will  be  fitful,  temporary,  and  unsustained,  and 
ever  out  of  keeping  and  proportion  with  itself.  Now 
what  do  you  do  with  your  leisure  hours  ?  ^ere  is  an 
opportunity  for  you  to  spend  them  pleasantly,  profita- 
bly, and  dutifully  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  term. 

A  love  for  the  beautiful  is  natural  to  man,  so  there 
is  a  natural  pleasure  in  the  pursuit  of  it,  and  all  culti- 
vate an  acquaintance  with  it  more  or  less.  Conversa- 
tion glowing  with  it  is  sure  to  fascinate  in  proportion  to 


GOOD   TASTE.  79 

the  amount  and  power  of  the  quahty.  This  indeed  is 
the  true  beautifier  of  all  conversation.  A  memory 
teeming  with  knowledge  and  an  intellect  beaming  with 
thought  may  arrest  and  impress  with  respect,  but  it  is 
the  genial  fancy  that  beautifies  with  light,  warmth,  and 
color,  which  charms  and  captivates.  Now  the  best  drill 
for  attaining  this  power  in  conversation  is  the  culture 
of  it.  It  takes  a  deal  of  practice  to  attain  a  power,  so 
do  not  be  discouraged  if  the  power  does  not  come  so 
soon  as  desired.  Besides,  this  one  original  power,  if 
you  acquire  it,  will  help  to  form'  originality  in  all  other  ac- 
quirements you  may  have.  Originality  is  the  soul  of 
all  power.  Originality  does  not  mean  that  you  create 
a  power  yourself  unlike  any  other  in  creation.  It 
means  that  you  have  formed  for  yourself  a  power  in 
nature,  in  conformity  with  the  laws  of  nature  in  and 
around  you.  You  have  thus  a  power  to  produce  for 
yourself,  which,  if  you  have  it  not,  you  will  be  forced  to 
derive,  not  in  itself  but  in  its  effects,  from  others.  Try 
to  attain  original  not  derivative  ornament,  and  so  avoid 
the  imputation  of  the  jackdaw  in  the  peacock's  feathers. 
This  is  not  the  place  to  give  an  analysis  of  the  process 
of  drill.  We  have  space  only  to  point  out  the  great 
importance  and  the  influence  of  the  power.  It  may 
not  be  out  of  place,  however,  to  give  a  few  hints  as  to 
the  method  by  which  it  may  be  acquired. 

This  power  is  but  the  refinement  of  the  other  powers 
of  the  mind,  and  will  be  weak  or  strong  in  proportion 
to  them.  This  is  the  power  that  makes  the  other  pow- 
ers shine,  or  rather  it  is  the  power  of  thought  and  the 
sense  of  feeling  polished  so  that  they  shine.  In  the 
words  of  the  old  Greek  critic,  "  it  is  the  image  reflected 


80  GOOD   TASTE. 

from  the  inward  beauty  of  the  soul."  The  mind  you 
form  by  your  education  stamps  the  character  of  your 
soul,  and  what  your  soul  is,  that  only  can  your  manner 
be.  Nor  need  you  lament  want  of  education.  If  you 
can  read,  and  set  yourself  seriously  to  think,  a  world  of 
teachers  may  be  had  for  a  very  little  money.  Remember 
that  self-education  is  the  only  real  education,  and  at  the 
best  universities  if  the  students  do  not  educate  them- 
selves they  are  not  really  educated.  The  best  part  of 
those  institutions  is  the  routine  and  method  and  disci- 
pline enforced.  We  do  not  desire,  however,  to  depre- 
ciate those  conservatories  of  learning,  we  only  wish  to 
impress  you  who  have  not  the  means  nor  the  opportu- 
nity, that  you  can  do  very  well  without  them.  There 
is  a  university  for  the  million  in  literature,  and  the 
"humanities  "  are  now  freed  from  the  Greek  and  Latin 
tongues.  The  best  teachers  will  instruct  you,  the  best 
lecturers  will  read  to  you  by  your  own  fireside,  but  you, 
on  your  part,  must  cultivate  the  power  of  thinking  and 
the  habit  of  study.  The  living  voice,  to  be  sure,  is  no 
longer  there  to  thrill  with  enthusiasm,  and  undoubtedly 
if  you  have  the  means  and  opportunity  you  should  get 
a  living  instructor  whose  soul  will  come  into  living 
contact  with  your  own. 

In  this  wonderful  world  there  are  many  fields  of  in- 
quiry open  to  you  wherein  you  may  gather  for  yourself 
materials  for  exercising  your  powers  of  thought,  but 
there  is  one  in  which  every  one  must  adopt  a  sphere  of 
labor,  and  wherein  he  may  gather  ample  materials  for 
the  purposes  of  thought,  and  that  is  humanity.  What 
we  term  pure  literature  is  the  record  of  it,  and  it  is  ever 


GOOD   TASTE.  8 1 

living  round  about  us,  and  continually  coming  into  con- 
tact with  us. 

Useful  knowledge  may  now  be  gleaned  under  the 
most  favorable  circumstances  in  consequence  of  the 
vast  harvests  that  are  continually  being  gathered  in.  A 
cheap  printing  press — cheap  on  account  of  the  extent  of 
the  demand  for  its  treasures — sends  the  wisest  and  most 
learned  teachers  to  instruct  the  poorest  respectable  man. 
It  rests  with  himself  to  make  his  knowledge  and  wis- 
dom not  only  useful  but  ornamental.  There  is  more 
true  knowledge  at  the  present  day  in  our  shops  and 
counting-houses  than  there  was  of  old  in  the  most 
learned  universities.  Facts  are  infinitely  more  useful 
than  the  subtlest  distinctions  of  imputed  qualities, 
labored  disquisitions  on  possible  entities,  and  intermi- 
nable logomachies.  Classic  Latin  and  scholastic  logic 
"  are  nowhere,"  compared  with  our  own  simple  vernac- 
ular English  and  common  sense.  Make  physical  sci- 
ence or  the  knowledge  of  facts  the  whetstone  of  your 
mind,  and  polish  it  into  refinement  with  literature. 
Physics  may  be  studied  at  any  of  our  mechanics^  insti- 
tutions for  a  fee  merely  nominal,  so  that  none  who  have 
any  pretensions  at  all  to  the  improvement  of  their 
minds  labor  under  difficulties  of  means  and  opportuni 
ties  which  they  cannot  surmount.  The  finest  results 
have  been  attained  by  the  simplest  means. 

Nothing  makes  a  greater  difference  between  people 
engaged  in  conversation  than  different  degrees  and 
methods  of  knowledge.  An  ignorant  person,  if  he 
knows  his  own  ignorance,  can  at  least  begin  to  learn, 
and  so  be  in  the  way  of  improving,  but  often  his  great- 
est ignorance  is  that  he  does  not  know  his  own  igno 
6 


S2  GOOD    TASTE. 

ranee,  and  this  is  a  hopeless  case  indeed.  Of  course, 
if  a  man,  however  learned,  takes  himself  to  task  about 
his  own  positive  knowledge,  he  will  find  himself  not  so 
learned  as  he  thought,  and  after  such  an  ordeal  he  is 
apt  to  say  that  he  is  really  but  an  ignorant  person  at 
the  best,  but  still  he  knows  something,  however  little 
that  be,  and  that  little  ,is  a  great  deal  compared 
with  the  knowledge  of  a  person  who  has  bestowed  no 
attention  at  all  upon  the  subject.  We  should  always 
hold  ourselves  capable  of  learning  by  cultivating  the 
disposition  to  do  so,  and  then  we  shall  feel  aston- 
ished at  our  ability  to  understand  the  most  difficult 
questions  that  may  come  before  us. 

Wrong-headedness  is  a  worse  state  of  mind  than  ab- 
solute ignorance.  It  may  almost  be  called  a  modified 
type  of  madness.  A  chaos  of  ideas  must  result  in  con- 
fusion of  thought  and  unwise  action.  This  arises  from 
slovenliness  and  want  of  method  in  thinking.  A  per- 
son who  allows  himself  to  fall  into  such  a  state,  and  to 
contract  so  idle  and  hurtful  a  habit,  can  never  meet 
with  respect  in  the  interchange  of  social  converse. 
This  is  what  the  poet  Burns  called  "  an  in-kneed  sort 
of  a  soul." 

The  man  of  learning,  whose  knowledge  has  been 
arranged  by  systematic  method  so  that  he  can  produce 
it  at  will  when  required,  produces  a  current  of  conver- 
sation that  flows  clearly  and  pleasantly,  especially  when 
that  knowledge  is  made  to  bear  the  precious  burden  of 
wise  and  beautiful  thoughts. 

Of  course  the  end  we  aim  at  here— to  be  a  tolerably 
well  informed  gentleman  so  that  one  may  occupy  a  not 
undignified  position  in  the  social  circle — is  not  the  only 


GOOD   TASTE.  83 

nor  the  highest  aim  achieved,  though  the  one  more  im- 
mediately sought  for  at  present.  The  higher  aim  we 
have  throughout  kept  in  view  is  one  never  to  be  relin- 
quished for  a  present  and  merely  transient  good. 

With  regard  to  advice  as  to  what  should  form  spe- 
cially the  subject  of  our  studies,  the  following  words  of 
Thomas  Carlyle  are  much  to  the  point,  A  young  friend 
had  written  to  him  for  advice  on  the  subject,  and  was 
answered  thus  : — "It  would  give  me  true  satisfaction 
could  any  advice  of  mine  contribute  to  forward  you  in 
your  honorable  course  of  self-improvement,  but  a  long 
experience  has  taught  me  that  advice  can  profit  but 
little ;  that  there  is  a  good  reason  why  advice  is  so  sel- 
dom followed  ;  this  reason,  namely,  that  it  is  so  seldom 
and  can  almost  never  be  rightly  given.  No  man  knows 
the  state  of  another ;  it  is  always  to  some  more  or  less 

'  imaginary  man  that  the  wisest  and  most  honest  adviser 
is  speaking. 

"  As  to  the  books  which  you — whom  I  know  so  little 
of — should  read,  there  is  hardly  anything  definite  that 

■  can  be  said.  For  one  thing,  you  may  be  strenuously 
advised  to  keep  reading.  Any  good  book,  any  book 
that  is  wiser  than  yourself,  will  teach  you  something — 
a  great  many  things,  indirectly  and  directly,  if  your 
mind  be  open  to  learn.  This  old  counsel  of  Johnson's 
is  also  good,  and  universally  applicable  :  *  Read  the 
book  that  you  do  honestly  feel  a  wish  and  curiosity  to 
read.'  The  very  wish  and  curiosity  indicate  that  you, 
then  and  there,  are  the  person  likely  to  get  good  of  it. 
*  Our  wishes  are  presentiments  of  our  capabilities ; ' 
that  is  a  noble  saying,  of  deep  encouragement  to  all 
true  men ;  applicable  to  our  wishes  and  efforts  in  re- 


84  GOOD   TASTE. 

gard  to  reading,  as  to  other  things.  Among  all  the  ob- 
jects that  look  wonderful  or  beautiful  to  you,  follow 
with  fresh  hope  the  one  that  looks  wonderfuUest,  beau- 
tifullest.  You  will  gradually  find,  by  various  trials 
— which  trials  see  that  you  make  honest,  manful  ones, 
not  silly,  short,  fitful  ones — what  is  for  you  the  wonder- 
fullest,  beautifullest,  what  is  your  true  element  and 
province,  and  be  able  to  profit  by  that. 

"All  books  are  properly  the  record  of  the  history  of 
past  men,  what  thoughts  past  men  had  in  them,  what  ac- 
tions past  men  did ;  the  summary  of  all  books  whatso- 
ever lies  there.  It  is  on  this  ground  that  the  class  of 
books  specifically  named  History,  can  be  safely  recom- 
mended as  the  basis  of  all  study  of  books — the  prelim- 
inary to  all  right  and  full  understanding  of  anything  we 
can  expect  to  find  in  books.  Past  history,  and  espe- 
cially the  past  history  of  one's  native  country,  everybody 
may  be  advised  to  begin  with  that.  Let  him  study  that 
faithfully ;  innumerable  inquiries  will  branch  out  from  it. 
He  has  a  broad  beaten  highway,  from  which  all  the 
country  is  more  or  less  visible  ;  there  travelling,  let  him 
choose  where  he  will  dwell. 

"  Neither  let  mistakes  and  wrong  directions — of  which 
every  man,  in  his  studies  and  elsewhere  falls  into  many 
— discourage  you.  There  is  precious  instruction  to  be  got 
by  finding  that  we  are  wrong.  Let  a  man  try  faithfully, 
manfully  to  be  right ;  he  will  grow  daily  more  and  more 
right.  It  is,  at  bottom,  the  condition  on  which  all  men 
have  to  cultivate  themselves.  Our  very  walking  is  an 
incessant  falling ;  a  falling  and  a  catching  of  ourselves 
before  we  come  actually  to  the  pavement !  "  It  is  em- 
blematic of  all  things  a  man  does. 


GOOD   TASTE.  85 

"  In  conclusion,  I  will  remind  you  that  it  is  not  by 
books  alone,  or  by  books  chiefly,  that  a  man  becomes  in 
all  points  a  man.  Study  to  do  faithfully  whatsoever 
thing  in  your  actual  situation,  there  and  now,  you  find 
either  expressly  or  tacitly  laid  to  your  charge  ;  that  is 
your  post ;  stand  in  it  like  a  true  soldier.  Silently  de- 
vour the  many  chagrins  of  it,  as  all  human  situations 
have  many ;  and  see  you  aim  not  to  quit  it  without  do- 
ing all  that  //,  at  least,  required  of  you.  A  man  perfects 
himself  by  work  much  more  than  by  reading.  They 
are  a  growing  kind  of  men  that  can  wisely  combine  the 
two  things — wisely,  valiantly,  can  do  what  is  laid  to 
their  hand  in  their  present  sphere,  and  prepare  them- 
selves withal  for  doing  other  wider  things,  if  such  lie 
before  them." 

All  this  advice  is  sterling  wisdom,  and  of  infinite  value 
to  the  man  who  wishes  to  form  the  power  we  are  desir- 
ous he  should  form  within  himself.  A  man  who  moulds 
himself  so,  will  have  force  and  energy  of  his  own 
which  will  make  itself  felt  in  whatever  sphere  he  may 
find  himself.  But  attend  more  specially  in  the  mean 
time  to  that  part  of  the  advice  in  which  he  says  : 
"Among  all  the  objects  that  look  wonderful  or  beauti- 
ful to  you,  follow  with  fresh  hope,  the  one  that  looks 
wonderfullest,  beautifullest." 

"  Walk  with  the  beautiful  and  with  the  grand, 
Let  nothing  on  the  earth  thy  feet  deter ; 
Sorrow  may  lead  thee  moping  by  the  hand, 
But  give  not  all  thy  bosom  thoughts  to  her. 
Walk  with  the  beautiful. 

"I  hear  thee  say  *  The  beautiful !  What  is  it?  * 
Oh,  thou  art  darkly  ignorant — be  sure 


86  GOOD   TASTE. 

'Tis  no  long  weary  road  its  form  to  visit, 
For  thou  can'st  make  it  smile  beside  thy  door. 
Then  love  the  beautiful. 

"  Thy  bosom  is  its  mint,  the  workmen  are 

Thy  thoughts,  and  they  must  coin  for  thee  ; 
The  beautiful  is  master  of  a  star, 

Thou  mak'st  it  so,  but  art  thyself  deceiving 
If  otherwise  thy  faith." 

Yes ;  the  beautiful  is  coin  that  shining  fresh  from 
the  mint  of  your  thoughts  in  conversation  will  dazzle 
and  fascinate  the  receivers,  and  will  win  favor  and 
reputation  for  the  coiner  and  distributor.  The  culture 
of  the  beautiful  in  thought  and  expression,  is  the  fin- 
ishing polish  to  all  the  other  solid  acquirements  and 
abilities  of  your  mind  and  manner.  The  beautiful  is 
the  irresistible  and  the  invincible.  We  now  proceed 
to  give  a  few  hints  on  the  acquirement  of  this  valuable 
state  of  thought  and  feeling. 

We  do  not  mean  that  you  are  to  get  up  the  power  of 
talking  the  beautiful  so  as  to  shine  amidst  your  com- 
peers, and  eclipse  them  by  your  beautiful  talk.  We 
mean  you  so  to  steep  your  powers  in  an  ever  present 
consciousness  of  the  beautiful,  so  that  it  may  pervade 
your  entire  being,  and  settle  down  into  the  habitual 
exercise  of  a  good  and  elegant  taste. 

For  this  purpose  it  is  not  necessary  that  you  enter 
into  a  metaphysical  study  of  the  beautiful,  wherein  you 
may  get  bewildered  and  lost  in  attempting  to  find  some 
ideal  standard.  Study  it  as  you  would  the  true  and 
the  good — study  it  along  with  these,  and  your  percep- 
tion wall  not  readily  fail  to  see  it  when  it  is  present. 


GOOD   TASTE.  8/ 

This  faculty  extends  to  such  a  variety  of  subjects 
that  there  is  hardly  a  phase  of  your  conduct  not  af- 
fected by  it.  Take  the  example  of  color.  How  much 
does  a  due  appreciation  of  fitness  in  harmony  or  con- 
trast affect  your  personal  appearance  in  the  matter  of 
dress.  By  that  alone  will  your  claim  to  elegant  taste 
be  judged  by  society.  See  what  a  difference  between 
the  uncultured  taste  of  the  country  bumpkin,  the  fash- 
ionable taste  of  the  city  swell,  and  the  cultured  refine- 
ment of  the  thorough  gentleman.  Again,  in  the  matter 
of  sound,  what  a  vast  difference  between  the  ungov- 
erned,  because  untrained,  voice  of  the  blustering 
talker,  and  the  obedient,  pliant,  mellow  bell-tone  of  the 
elegant  speaker.  The  former  rends  the  air  with  disso- 
nance, and  our  hearts  with  discord  ;  the  latter  with  per- 
suasive pathos  floats  through  our  charmed  ears  into 
our  assenting  and  consenting  hearts. 

With  regard  to  beauty  of  form,  we  presume  much 
need  not  be  said,  as  all  are  aware  how  powerful  it  is  in 
its  effects.  We  have  little  control  over  the  form  that 
nature  has  given  us  except  by  modifying  its  appear- 
ance, but  even  that  is  a  good  deal  under  our  control. 
We  do  not  appear  in  society  as  nature  has  turned  us 
out  of  her  hands.  We  pass  through  the  hands  of  the 
barber,  the  tailor,  the  shoemaker,  the  hatter,  etc.,  and 
we  pass  a  good  deal  through  our  own  hands  daily.  In 
all  these  modifications  of  nature  there  is  wide  room  for 
the  exercise  of  an  elegant  taste,  or  the  contrary. 

As  a  matter  of  course  all  the  several  possible  modi- 
fications of  what  is  elegant  and  tasteful  come  under 
the  common  term  of  what  is  elegant  in  thought  and  in 
feeling.     The  several  manifestations  of  taste   are  but 


88  GOOD   TASTE. 

the  expression  of  these  outwardly,  and  derive  all  their 
truth  and  beauty  and  propriety  of  effect  from  the  genu- 
ine power  and  quality  of  these  as  they  exist  and  are 
developed  in  the  mind. 

The  power  and  the  habit  are  best  obtained  by  the 
formal  pursuit  of  some  art-study,  as  the  composition 
and  expression  of  thought  in  prose  or  verse,  the  art  of 
drawing  or  painting,  or  some  study  which  takes  you 
into  the  habitual  presence  of  the  beautiful — in  fact, 
any  pursuit  that  makes  you  think  continuously  regard- 
ing that  wonderful  beautiful  arrangement  of  things 
which  made  the  old  Greeks  call  the  world  by  the  same 
term  they  had  to  express  beauty. 

There  is  one  sphere  of  good  taste  more  suited  to 
those  for  whom  we  are  writing  than  any  other,  and 
that  is  the  culture  of  good  taste  in  thought  and  feeling 
through  the  habitual  culture  of  it  in  our  literature,  and 
even  the  literary  culture  of  it  in  written  expression, 
"  Reading,"  says  Bacon,. "  maketh  a  full  man,  confer- 
ence a  ready  man,  and  writing  an  exact  man."  By  pe- 
rusing the  elegant  in  literature,  the  fine  taste  will  im- 
pregnate your  thoughts  till  you  become  full  of  it.  By 
talking  the  elegance  over  with  your  associates  you  will 
the  more  readily  make  them  subservient  to  your  own 
refinement ;  but  only  by  bringing  them  to  a  strict 
scrutiny  and  account  with  your  own  pen  will  you  make 
their  influence  felt  and  their  nature  and  effects  definite 
and  exact.  You  have  not  at  all  times  friends  willing 
and  ready  enough  to  talk  matters  over,  but  whenever 
you  please  you  may  take  up  your  pen  or  your  pencil, 
and  bring  yourself  or  your  thoughts  to  book.  Think- 
ing or  even  talking  a  matter  over  is  vapory  in  its  results 


GOOD   TASTE.  89 

compared  with  writing  it  over.  And  then  writing 
comprehends  all  other  particular  modes,  for  it  compre- 
hends all  that  is  in  thought.  There  is  no  pursuit  that 
will  react  on  your  conversation  like  writing.  Remem- 
ber, however,  it  is  not  writing  for  others,  but  for  your- 
self. There  is  a  mawkish  sentimentality  about  writing 
which  is  most  pernicious.  No  sooner  does  one  men- 
tion writing  than  there  rises  up  the  absurd  notion  of 
"  turning  author. '^  As  well  link  the  idea  of  "  turning 
spouter  '^  with  the  art  of  speech.  In  these  days  ever}^- 
body  should  possess  the  art  of  writing  as  well  as  the  arts 
of  reading,  and  speaking,  and  of  doing  it  well  too.  Ay 
— and  even  the  art  of  versifying  should  not  be  neg- 
lected with  supercillious  scorn  and  contempt  as  it  is  by 
cotton-hearted  money-makers,  for  as  by  learning  to 
dance,  we  gain  grace  to  the  motion  as  we  walk,  so  by 
causing  our  words  to  move  in  numbers,  we  gain  elasticity 
and  elegance  to  the  rhythm  of  our  prose.  This  repro- 
ducing of  the  elegant  in  our  own  words  tends  to  consol- 
idate and  establish  our  habit  of  thinking  in  good  taste, 
and  acting  in  good  taste  is  only  one  step  farther,  and 
the  former  must  be  had  before  the  latter  can  be 
taken. 

Thought  and  behavior  are  so  intimately  related  that 
you  can  hardly  cultivate  elegance  in  the  former,  with- 
out a  corresponding  result  in  the  latter.  There  is  no 
reason  for  a  hypocrisy  in  this,  and  so  the  thought  will 
naturally  reveal  itself  in  the  manner.  Again,  behavior 
can  only  sustain  itself  consistently  when  it  flows  from 
an  ever-springing  fount  of  thought.  That  fount  derives 
its  spring  from  the  depths  of  a  large  experience,  on 
which  have  fallen  the  dews  and  showers  of  many  read- 


90  GOOD   TASTE. 

ings  and    studyings   and  thinkings.     Tennyson  finely 
and  truly  says, 

"  For  who  can  always  act  but  he 
To  whom  a  thousand  memories  call  ?  " 

A  man's  memories  shower  upon  him  inducements 
that  compel  him  to  act ;  the  remembered  thoughts  are 
the  potent  ones,  and  the  earnestly  acted  ones. 

You  see  that  conversation  is  not  limited  to  talking 
merely — it  embraces  your  general  conduct  as  well. 
The  tongue  indeed  has  a  wonderful  empire  of  its  own, 
but  it  merely  produces  the  echo  of  the  thought,  on  which 
it  depends  for  its  force  and  its  beauty.  But  the  be- 
havior is  the  expression  of  the  man,  and  the  impres- 
sion made  comes  from  the  more  effective  stamp  of  the 
entire  earnest  character. 

To  be  able  to  surround  yourself  and  others  in  the 
social  circle  with  delight  and  happiness  is  surely  to 
have  the  power  of  shining  to  advantage  in  a  most 
legitimate  and  most  delightful  way.  But  this  will  de- 
pend in  a  great  measure  on  the  associates  of  your 
thoughts.  Are  you  content  to  choose  these  from  those 
of  common-place  quality,  or  from  those  which  are  ever 
found  in  the  highest  places — the  palaces  of  thought  ? 

Observe  then  that  the  transmutation  of  your  coarser 
metal  into  finer,  and  the  refinement  of  that  into  finer 
still,  is  done  within  the  laboratory  of  your  brain,  and 
here  it  is  that  you  must  work  out  the  process  of  know- 
ing *'  how  to  shine  "  with  a  true  and  becoming  lustre. 
You  have,  moreover,  every  inducement  to  make  your- 
self at  home  in  this,  happy  and  contented,  for  it  is  about 
the   pleasantest  occupation  a  man  can  be  engaged  in, 


GOOD    TASTE.  9 1 

and  deepens  and  broadens  and  brightens,  day  after  day 
spent  upon  it,  our  personal  pleasure  and  happiness. 
Real  and  imaginary  pleasures  are  very  often  con- 
founded. In  the  testing  laboratory  of  real  thought, 
what  is  supposed  to  be  real  pleasure  often  changes  into 
a  solution  of  vanity  with  a  pale  precipitate  of  sorrow ; 
and  what  appears  to  be  purely  imaginary  becomes  a  dur- 
able and  lasting — sometimes  everlasting — solid.  There 
is  a  misnamed  elegant  taste  in  the  world,  which  is  a 
vitiated  and  corrupted  one.  A  man  may  have  what  is 
really  capable  of  yielding  a  result,  and  yet  may  not  be 
able  to  make  it  yield  it  to  him ;  he  may  nof  have  the 
wisdom  to  extractor  distil,  though  he  may  have  the  ma- 
terial. Of  course  he  must  have  the  material  to  be  able 
to  perform  the  process  ;  but  the  process  is  quite  a  dis- 
tinct thing  from  the  material,  and  you  may  buy  the  ma- 
terial but  you  cannot  buy  your  own  act  of  the  process 
— that  is  entirely  a  personal  thing.  But  the  rights  of 
property  in  this  matter  of  taste  are  vested  only  in  those 
who  can  use  them,  not  merely  in  those  who  possess 
them,  so  that  this  beautiful  little  world  is  ever  open  to 
those  who  choose  to  enter  in  and  possess  it.  Hazlitt 
humorously  and  somewhat  truly  describes  this  in  the 
following  racy  description  : — "  When  I  am  in  the  coun- 
try, all  the  fine  seats  near  the  place  of  my  residence, 
and  to  which  I  have  access,  I  regard  as  mine.  The 
same  I  think  of  the  groves  and  fields  where  I  walk,  and 
muse  on  the  folly  of  the  civil  landlord  in  London,  who 
has  the  fantastical  pleasure  of  draining  dry  rents  into 
his  coffers,  but  is  a  stranger  to  the  fresh  air  and  rural 
enjoyments.  By  these  principles  I  am  possessed  of  half- 
a-dozen  of  the  finest  seats  in  England,  which,  in  the  eye 


92  GOOD   TASTE. 

of  the  law,  belong  to  certain  of  my  acquaintances,  who, 
being  men  of  business,  choose  to  live  near  the  court.'" 
Is  not  this  true  and  real  enjoyment  without  the  troubles 
and  anxieties  that  detract  from  the  pleasure,  which  the 
possessor  necessarily  has  in  the  owning,  and  the  main- 
tenance of  the  ownership  ? 

"  In  some  great  families,"  naively  continues  Hazlitt, 
"  where  I  choose  to  pass  my  time,  a  stranger  would  be 
apt  to  rank  me  with  the  other  domestics  ;  but,  in  my 
own  thoughts  and  natural  judgment,  I  am  master  of 
the  house,  and  he  who  goes  by  that  name  is  my  steward, 
who  eases  me  of  the  care  of  providing  for  myself  the 
conveniences  and  pleasures  of  life."  Though  quiet, 
what  satire  could  be  more  pungent  on  the  folly  of  think- 
ing we  are  happy  and  enjoying  life,  if  we  are  master  of 
a  splendid  establishment,  ornamented  to  the  full  with 
magnificent  display.  To  those  born  in,  and  born  to, 
high  life,  what  splendid  misery  to  be  born  to  such  as 
mere  necessities  of  existence ;  and  to  those  born 
in  humble  life,  but  to  whose  unremitting  exertions, 
high  life,  the  beacon  of  all  their  toiling  hopes,  has  at 
length  come  as  the  crowning  reward,  what  splendid 
disappointment  and  sorrow  to  attempt,  with  daily  failure? 
to  crush  some  sweet  out  of  the  daily  glitter  and  the 
show  !  What  is  not  in  them  cannot  be  taken  out  of 
them.  What  is  sought  after  is  in  the  refinement  of  the 
mind,  and  may  be  had  without  them — at  least  without 
paying  for  them  in  false  circumstance  or  a  lifetime  of 
slavery. 

How  exquisitely  does  he  continue  his  good  humored 
satire  in  the  following,  and  notice  that  he  speaks  from 
a  conscious  possession  of  the  very  power  we  wish   you 


GOOD   TASTE.  93 

to  have  :—''  When  I  walk  the  streets  I  use  the  foregoing 
natural  maxim, — that  he  is  the  true  possessor  of  a  thing 
who  enjoys  it,  and  not  he  that  owns  it,  without  the   en- 
joyment,— to  convince  myself  that  I  have  a  property  in 
the  gay  part  of  all  the  gilt  chariots  that  I  meet,  which  I 
regard  as  amusements  designed  to  delight  my  eyes,  and 
the  imagination  of  those  kind  people  who  sit  in  them 
gayly  attired  only  to  please  me."     And  so  he  goes  on 
with  a  wonderful  sense  of   pleasure   and  contentment, 
without  the  least  feeling  of  envy,  and  without  allowing 
the  slightest  room  for  it  to  exist.     How  grandly  he  does 
his  casting  of  the  account  between  real  and   imaginary 
pleasures.     "  But  the  pleasure  which  naturally  affects 
a  human  mind  with  the  most  lively  and  transporting 
touches,  I  take  to  be  the  sense  that  we  act   in  the   eye 
of  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness  that  will  crown 
our  virtuous  endeavors  here,  with  a  happiness   here- 
after, large  as  our  desires,  and  lasting  as  our  immortal 
souls     This  is  a  perpetual  spring  of  gladness  in  the 
mind.     This  lessens  our  calamities,  and  doubles  our 
joys.     Without  this,  the  highest  state  of  life  is   insipid, 
and  with  it  the  lowest  is  a  paradise."     When  a  road 
leads  to  such  a  grand  conclusion,  you  are  pretty  safe  in 
travelling  along  it.     It  is  along  this  one  we  desire  you 
to  go  in  your  search  for  the  pleasing  refinement,  that  is 
to  make  you  a  pleasing  companion   on  the  way  of  l^fe, 
and  in  those  little  gatherings  by  the  wayside,  which  we 
denominate  social.     Along  this  road   are  the   wayside 
flowers   we   desire   you   to   pluck,  and  over  its  May- 
laden  hedges  are  to  be  seen   those   beautiful   pictures, 
which  we  desire  you  to  cover  the  walls  of  your  memory 
with.     You  will  thrill  and  bound  with  the  impulse  of 


94  THE  TOPICS   OF  CONVERSATION. 

gladness,  or  be  socially  companionable  with  the  quiet 
serenity  of  pleasant  contentment.  You  will  be  sure  to 
attain  the  minor  purpose  we  have  more  immediately  in 
view — you  will  begin  in  the  spirit  of  not  offending,  and, 
as  you  gradually  gain  power,  you  will  continue  to  gain 
favor  for  yourself,  until  your  companionship  is  sought 
after  for  the  profit  and  pleasure  it  imparts. 

There  are  various  little  matters  of  tact  and  taste 
which  are  only  to  be  acquired  by  the  observation  of  ex- 
ample and  the  teaching  of  experience,  but  the  great 
faculty  and  the  disposition  lie  in  such  pursuits  and  as- 
sociations. The  elements  of  the  conduct  of  life  must 
be  learned  in  some  school  wherein  the  actual  conduct 
is  but  comparatively  practical — where  it  is  in  a  great 
measure  merely  ideal ;  and  so  the  elements  of  good 
taste  and  the  ideal  of  good  breeding  must  be  derived 
from  the  teachings  of  those  eloquent  instructors  that 
catch  the  living  manners  as  they  rise,  test  them  by  the 
ideal  of  what  is  correct  and  becoming,  and  impress 
them  on  our  minds  with  a  quietness  and  a  beauty,  that 
make  them  pleasing  for  the  time,  and  leave  a  happiness 
behind  them  forever.  So  intimately  knit  in  themselves 
and  their  consequences  are  the  true,  the  good  and  the 
beautiful. 

THE  TOPICS  OF  CONVERSATION. 

The  topics  of  conversation  are  not  often  of  our  own 
suggesting  at  the  outset,  but  we  should  be  rationally 
well  informed  so  as  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  con- 
versation, whatever  direction  its  current  may  take. 
The   wider  your   range   of   information,  the   more   of 


THE  TOPICS  OF  CONVERSATION.  95 

couKse  have  you  the  means  of  taking  a  part  in  it.  You 
have  the  whole  circle  of  the  sciences  and  the  arts  to 
glean  from.  You  need  not  enter  into  them  like  a  pro- 
fessional scholar,  but  you  may  take  from  them  gradu- 
ally materials  for  thinking  like  a  thinking  man.  You 
need  not  be  an  omnivorous  svvallower  of  encyclopae- 
dic description,  but  you  must  be  an  honest  and  care- 
ful digester  of  whatever  you  take  into  your  mental  stom- 
ach, else  it  will  deaden  the  finer  energies  of  your 
mind.  The  memory  in  some  is  but  a  great  lumber  cel- 
lar of  odds  and  ends,  that  can  never  be  conveniently 
got  at  to  be  of  any  practical  use — a  want  of  method  in 
the  storing  has  so  confused  and  mixed  them  altogether. 
Whatever  you  do  learn,  learn  it  methodically.  We  do 
not  mean  the  method  of  mere  rote,  but  the  method  of 
nature  and  of  reason.  This  reasonable  method  will 
keep  you  correct  and  accurate.  You  will  never  feel 
wrong  or  confused.  Above  all,  see  that  you  have  defi- 
nite notions,  and  definite  terms  for  those  notions.  A 
loose  desultory  habit  of  reading,  a  loose  unmethodical 
habit  of  thinking,  and  a  loose  indefinite  manner  of 
speaking,  will  make  but  a  sorry  conversable  member  of 
society.  He  shines  to  advantage  who  is  decided  and 
definite  through  all. 

No  conversation  can  go  on  for  any  length  of  time 
without  opportunities  for  you  to  add  your  quota  to  the 
general  stock.  Indeed,  the  opportunities  occur  so  fre- 
quently that  the  danger  lies  in  contributing  without  dis- 
crimination and  judgment,  simply  because  you  know 
something  that  will  just  fit.  How  irresistible  is  the  in- 
clination of  two  or  three  to  speak  at  the  same  time, 
with  ill-concealed  impatience  for  him  who  is  speaking 


96  THE   TOPICS   OF  CONVERSATION. 

to  be  finished  as  quickly  as  possible.  Topics  are  likely 
rather  to  crowd  in  upon  you  than  to  fail  you,  and  must 
be  put  under  judicious  restraint. 

We  have  already  referred  to  scandal  as  a  pet  topic  in 
social  parties,  but  as  one  to  be  deliberately  discounte- 
nanced and  avoided.  Anything  that  partakes  of  an  im- 
mediately personal  character  is  sure  to  breed  spleen 
and  envy  and  ill-will.  Leave  out  of  account  your  sorry 
little  selves,  and  introduce  things  that  are  useful  and 
noble  and  beautiful,  so  that  you  may  be  lifted  out  of 
yourselves  into  an  atmosphere  of  higher  elevation  and 
superior  refinement.  Anything  is  better  to  talk  about 
than  self,  and  the  comparison,  manifested  or  implied, 
of  that  sorry  little  wretch  with  others,  which  all  scandal 
basis  its  abominable  existence  on.  Scandal  mongers 
poison  the  airiest  and  the  sunniest  atmosphere  of  talk 
with  their  black  breath-clouds  of  evil  report.  Every  one 
should  be  interested  in  making  them  collapse. 

The  news  of  the  day  is  a  topic  that  rarely  fails  to 
come  upon  the  carpet.  The  daily  newspaper  supplies 
the  daily  fresh  material,  with  a  varied  miscellany  of 
subjects  to  gratify  every  kind  of  taste.  Beware,  how- 
ever, of  rushing  into  the  extreme  of  being  a  quidnunc^ 
who  bores  every  one  he  meets  with,  "Well,  what's  up 
now  ?  "  the  modern  quidnunc's  favorite  slang  expression. 
Of  course  the  bore  is  just  as  offensive,  though  couched 
in  a  more  elegant  phrase. 

There  is  a  topic  that  no  one  of  the  least  pretension 
to  refinement  would  ever  think  of  taking  part  in,  and 
that  is  dilating  with  zest  on  the  grosser  appetites  and 
passions  of  our  nature.  These,  though  as  necessary, 
and  in  their  place  as  useful  as  the  higher  attributes  of 


THE   TOPICS   OF   CONVERSATION.  97 

our  nature,  are  judiciously  kept  out  of  sight  in  unobtru- 
sive retirement.  Even  at  dinner,  where  you  cannot 
avoid  talking  a  little  "gout,"  it  must  be  done  in  an 
easy  passing  manner,  and  must  not  be  much  dwelt  on. 
With  regard  to  the  more  solid  topics  of  conversation, 
careful  reading  will  certainly  supply  you  with  as  large 
a  stock  as  you  desire  to  have,  but  these  will  be  apt  to 
be  indefinite  and  intangible,  unless  you  reason  them 
out  in  your  own  process  of  thought,  and  condense  them 
into  your  own  words  in  writing.  It  is  wonderful  what 
a  power  and  mastery  this  simple  habit  of  writing  down 
your  thoughts  gives  you.  Feeble  and  crude  at  first, 
like  everything  else  in  its  beginning,  by  and  by  it  gains 
strength  and  power,  until  the  words  come  as  readily 
from  the  pen  as  from  the  tongue.  It  is  just  taking  ac- 
count of  your  thoughts  in  a  daybook  of  topics,  or  as  it 
is  generally  termed,  a  common-place  book.  It  is  just 
habituating  yourself  to  talking  on  paper,  with  the  defi- 
niteness  and  precision  which  is  thereby  fnexorably  de- 
manded, in  order  that  you  may  the  more  easily  dis- 
course on  those  subjects  when  the  restraint  of  the 
paper  is  withdrawn,  as  a  precise  and  exacting  drill  con- 
fers ease  and  elasticity  on  the  deportment,  when  the 
rigidity  of  the  farm  is  withdrawn,  and  gives  place  to  a 
more  chastened  relaxation.  When  you  enter  social 
converse  you  are  going  to  "trade,'*  as  the  Americans 
say.  Well,  the  merchant  who  has  a  methodical  invoice 
of  his  goods  has  in  the  "trading"  the  advantage  of 
him  that  has  none.  The  very  writing  of  it  out  fixes  the 
articles  on  his  memoiy;  and  he  can  the  more  readily, 
and  the  more  accurately,  condescend  on  particulars. 
He  is  more  the  master  of  his  subject,  and  of  course  the 
7 


98  THE   TOPICS   OF   CONVERSATION. 

subject  is  more  his  servant,  being  therefore  more 
obedient  to  his  bidding. 

Remember,  however,  that  the  absolute  truth  of  a 
subject  can  rarely  be  made  evident,  and  that  variety  of 
opinion  is  infinite.  Each  one  speculates  according  to 
the  circle  of  his  vision,  and  no  two  see  things  exactly 
alike.  Every  one  loves  his  own  opinion  dearly — it  is 
the  fondly  nursed  child  of  his  brain,  and  there  are  no 
children  like  our  own.  Do  not  be  afraid  of  being 
looked  upon  as  foolish,  because  you  have  no  opinion 
to  give  on  a  subject.  Those  are  the  foolish  persons 
who  risk  a.  random  opinion  rather  than  have  nothing  to 
say.  If  you  have  anything  at  all  to  say,  it  is  better  to 
say  it  than  say  nothing,  but  see  that  you  say  it  at  the 
proper  time  and  in  a  proper  way.  Prudence  and  cir- 
cumspection will  make  your  little  tell  more  than  a  great 
deal  pronounced  without  judgment  and  discrimination. 
And  do  you.  Sir  Oracle,  think  that  because  you  have 
the  assurance  t*o  decide  upon  every  matter  for  the  en- 
tire company,  you  shine  the  one  lone  star  of  the  even- 
ing? Your  voice  is  loud  and  strong,  your  eye  bold 
and  confident,  and  your  manner  emphatic  and  decisive. 
You  overawe  the  weak  and  you  impose  on  the  foolish, 
but  you  irritate  the  strong  and  disgust  the  wise.  If 
you  are  not  pulled  down  from  your  supercilious  pedes- 
tal, it  is  because  you  are  despised  as  not  being  worth 
the  trouble. 

It  is  the  careful  reflective  mind  that  ultimately  gives 
direction  and  tone  to  opinion.  This  is  most  apparent 
in  the  wider  range  of  the  entire  social  system,  wherein 
public  opinion  directs  all  the  vital  and  effective  move- 


THE   TOPICS   OF  CONVERSATION.  99 

ments.  This  is  generated  by  that  common  sense  which 
in  the  main  is  the  root  of  all  true  growth  of  opinion. 

Though  you  have  selected  carefully  and  discrimin- 
ately  the  commonplaces  of  your  talk,  that  does  not 
mean  that  your  conversation  is  to  be  what  is  generally 
meant  by  the  epithet  commonplace.  A  commonplace 
talker  is  a  decided  bore  of  society,  and  a  most  weari- 
some one  too.  In  him  there  is  nothing  fresh,  nothing 
new.  He  has  the  same  old  topics  you  have  heard 
times  without  number;  and  these  have  become  to  you 
"stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable."  His  limited  and  stereo- 
typed commonplaces  have  conferred  an  equivocal  dis- 
tinctive degradation  upon  the  term  which  its  original 
signification  did  not  imply.  But  he  degrades  all  sub- 
jects by  his  insipid  "  hacking  "  of  them  to  death.  His 
parrotry  seems  to  emanate  from  his  tongue  merely  as 
sounds  that,  though  they  have  entered  through  his  ear, 
have  never  thrilled  the  rational  nerves  of  his  brain,  but 
have  been  merely  echoed  back  as  they  happened  to 
come.  Nothing  distinctive  has  been  added.  Any 
body  might  have  uttered  them.  They  bear  no  interest 
that  anybody  can  have  the  slightest  feeling  for.  They 
strike  with  the  monotony  that  magnetizes  our  senses 
with  indifference,  and  we  feel  ourselves  condemned  to 
dulness,  and  plunged  in  the  misery  of  eunui. 

The  weather  is  a  favorite  subject  with  such,  and  it 
is  about  the  best  one  they  have,  as  it,  at  least  in  this 
land,  is  continually  changing  itself  and  keeping  itself 
new  and  fresh.  It  is  but  a  prelude,  however,  to  the 
same  old  stories  you  know  so  well  already,  familiarity 
v;ith  which  has  bred  in  you  so  much  contempt  and  dis- 
gust.    Given  the  subject,  you  know  exactly  what  they 


lOO  THE   TOPICS   OF   CONVERSATION. 

will  say — nay,  you  can  imitate  their  very  speech  and 
manner  from,  alas,  a  too  frequently  refreshed  memory. 
You  feel  the  spring  of  your  mind  relaxed  as  soon  as 
you  come  in  contact  with  them.  There  is  no  use  try- 
ing to  force  them,  for  they  are  thorough  imbeciles,  not 
having  the  least  spark  of  that  glorious  fire  of  thought 
which  spreads  with  a  blaze  of  suggestiveness  when 
mind  meets  mind  quick  with  power.  To  have  the 
words  that  burn,  we  must  have  the  thoughts  that  glow. 
The  shallow  rills  of  mere  language  which  flow  from  the 
commonplace  talker,  are  deep  enough  to  damp  and 
drown  out  of  you  the  expression  of  all  but  the  most 
trivial  thoughts  and  feelings.  You  are  dragged  down 
necessarily  to  his  miserable  level,  for  you  cannot  pull 
him  up  to  yours.  But  you  know  better  than  to  make 
yourself  miserable  ;  you  sedulously  avoid  him  and  leave 
him  to  herd  with  others  like  himself  who  are  not  bur- 
dened with  much  weight  of  thought. 

As  great  a  bore  as  the  commonplace  talker  is  the 
everlasting  story-teller.  Whatever  the  topic  of  con- 
versation, he  manages  to  link  himself  to  it  with,  "  Oh, 
that  reminds  me  of  a  story,"  etc.,  or,  "  Oh,  that  reminds 
me  of  what  happened  on  a  similar  occasion,"  and  so  he 
lugs  himself  and  his  story  into  the  conversation,  and 
runs  away  with  the  talk  and  the  patience  of  the  whole 
company.  The  remotest  association  is  enough  for  him 
to  embark  on  his  interminable  story-telling,  or  ever  to 
be  remembered  reminiscences,  and  frequently  the  cur- 
rent is  turned  deplorably  awry  ere  he  has  done  with  his 
misappropriation  of  the  general  talk. 

The  genial  and  consistent  flow  of  conversation  is 
often  sadly  interrupted  by  the  random  and  the  impul- 


THE   TOPICS   OF    CONVERSATION.  lOI 

sive  talkers.  The  random  speakers  have  no  judgment 
or  discretion  either  with  regard  to  the  topics  under  dis- 
cussion or  to  the  persons  discussing.  They  may  dis- 
concert for  a  short  time,  and  if  persistent  may  annoy 
extremely,  but  in  the  end  the  diverted  attention  recoils 
in  anger  and  contempt  upon  their  own  empty  heads. 
The  impulsive  speakers  running  on  ahead  or  dragging 
wofully  in  the  rear,  annoy  chiefly  by  their  unsteady 
pace.  Nobody  can  bear  the  constantly  varying  attention 
demanded  by  the  attempt  to  place  one's  self  alongside 
of  their  thoughts.  There  is  nothing  contributes  more 
to  harmony  of  conversation  than  the  being  in  tune  as  it 
were  with  the  comp9.ny.  You  may  blend  harmoniously 
and  yet  retain  your  own  distinctive  contrast  of  individ- 
uality. This  adapting  of  yourself  and  your  topic  to  the 
tone  of  the  company  is  indeed  ofte  of  the  primary  and 
principal  requisites  to  please. 

All  this  theory  which  we  have  laid  down  will  be  of  no 
use  to  you  without  practice.  Don't  imagine  that  im- 
mediately after  cramming  all  this  into  your  head,  you 
can  go  and  act  it  in  the  first  company  3^ou  enter.  No 
such  a  thing.  If  you  have  not  already  begun,  you  must 
begin  ;  and  that  beginning  will  in  all  likelihood  be  full 
of  blunders  ;  but  you  need  not  be  discouraged,  for  every 
one  blunders  more  or  less  into  success,  and  success  wipes 
out  most  effectually  the  remembrance  of  all  blunders  ; 
but  only  through  the  blundering,  more  or  less,  lies  your 
way.  A  wise  prudence  and  a  circumspect  watchfulness 
will  save  you  from  many  mistakes,  and  recover  you  from 
more.  Whatever  ground  you  loose,  never  loose  your 
presence  of  mind  or  your  patience.  The  most  marked 
external  aspect  of  a  true  gentleman  is  that  self-contained 


I02  THE   TOPICS    OF   CONVERSATION. 

manner  which  hnpresses  with  a  sense  of  conscious  worth 
without  suspicion  of  pretension  attached,  except  what 
can  be  fully  laid  claim  to.  This  firm  composure  fixes 
itself  more  and  more  surely,  until  it  kindly  commands 
respect.  This  manner  is  the  best  basis  for  all  conver- 
sational excellence  to  stand  on.  It  amply  admits  that 
calm  consideration  which  is  a  condition  of  the  humblest 
attempt  to  please. 

Our  parting  advice  shall  be  a  recapitulatory  one. 
Remember  that  our  subject  is  an  art,  and  as  such  must 
be  dependent  on  science  for  its  principles,  and  is  in  it- 
self a  habitual  acting.  What  you  have  learned,  rehearse 
as  quietly  as  you  can  in  some  comparatively  unimpor- 
tant theatre  of  talk.  You  can  never  go  wrong  by  mak- 
mg  your  debut  in  the  humblest  style.  Take  your  seat 
at  the  lowest  end  of  the  table,  and  win  your  way  to  the 
highest.  It  is  the  natural  and  the  healthiest  mode  in 
everything.  Never  dream  of  bursting  full  blaze  upon 
the  public  stage,  thinking  that  because  you  have  the 
conception  in  your  head,  you  have  the  complete  persona- 
tion at  your  finger-ends.  That  would  be  sure  to  bring 
you  defeat  and  shame.  The  ground  is  slippery  at  the 
first  tread ;  proceed  cautiously,  and  step  by  step.  Grad 
ually  it  will  become  more  familiar  and  more  under  coti- 
trol.  Then  you  will  find  yourself  under  less  restraint, 
but  through  all  strive  to  retain  confidence  in  yourself. 
The  moment  that  is  gone,  disasters  begin.  Should 
accidents  happen  to  disturb  your  equanimity,  ignore 
them  yourself,  and  everybody  will  soon  forget  them. 
All  that  you  have  really  to  do  with  them  is  to  profit  by 
them.  Don't  suffer  yQurself,  above  all  things,  to  be 
re-tortured  by  them  in  the  recollection.     If  you  treat 


THE   TOPICS   OF   CONVERSATION.  IO3 

them  good-naturedly  they  will  be  forgotten  ;  if  you  show 
that  they  annoy  you  they  will  be  sure  to  be  fetched  again 
from  oblivion  by  some  ill-natured  tormentor.  Do  not 
formally  prepare  yourself  by  dressing  your  mind  and 
your  tongue,  as  you  would  your  body  before  going  into 
select  company,  but  be  always  in  the  way  of  preparation, 
and  always  hold  yourself  prepared — it  is  your  natural 
mood  as  a  man.  The  same  preparation  serves  you  in 
acquiring  one  of  the  most  useful  qualities  in  life — ad- 
dress. You  should,  however,  take  care  to  be  "  posted 
up  "  to  the  latest  in  all  your  topics,  so  far  as  your 
means  enable  you.  This  imparts  to  your  conversation 
that  freshness  which  is  so  acceptable  in  all  circles. 
Some  professed  *'  diners  out  "  and  "  hangers  on  "  may 
think  it  worth  while  to  con  their  intended  conversa- 
tional programme  by  heart  in  set  witticisms  and  pretty 
little  speeches  and  stories,  but  that  is  pretty  acting, 
not  gentlemanly  behavior.  It  is  a  dignified  preparation 
we  would  recommend  to  you,  not  one  of  such  fussy 
small-talk  ambition.  Your  quiet  self-possessed  manner 
will  then  gracefully  become  your  method  of  well-weighed 
reflective  thought,  and  will  impress  with  a  feeling  of 
respect  and  pleasure. 

But  nothing  ever  required  more  formal  and  more 
thorough  habitual  preparation — nay,  positive  training — 
than  the  organ  which  gives  expression  to  your  thoughts 
and  feelings.  This  physical  instrument  with  its  me- 
chanical effect  must  be  kept  in  constant  working  order 
by  habitual  and  judicious  practice.  The  voice  in  fact 
has  to  be  ground  down  to  power  and  sweetness,  and  it 
always  requires  grinding  to  keep- it  strong  and  mellow. 
It  has  been  a  cause  for  complaint  that  our  church  bells 


I04  THE   TOPICS   OF   CONVERSATION. 

are  not  constant  with  each  other  in  harmony.  They 
too  often  wrangle  like  sectaries  of  differing  creeds. 
There  is  cause  for  much  greater  complaint  that  people 
do  not  tune  their  voices  to  please  each  other  in  daily 
ringing  their  thoughts  into  each  other's  hearts.  Our 
conversation  and  the  mood  it  induces  would  be  all  the 
pleasanter  for  the  improvement.  Thought  that  comes 
chiming  into  our  heart  makes  us  glad.  What  comes 
jarring  through  our  ears  makes  us  nervously  uncom- 
fortable. The  human  voice  can  be  made  so  rich  and 
sweet  at  the  smallest  expense  of  attention  and  judgment 
that  harshness  is  quite  inexcusable.  A  harsh  squeak- 
ing voice  will  assuredly  destroy  all  other  excellences 
of  thought  and  behavior.  The  sweet  subtle  penetration 
of  a  tone  thrilling  with  the  pathos  of  persuasion  is  irre- 
sistible. It  is  the  heart  that  listens,  not  merely  the  ear 
and  the  brain.  Remember  too  that  the  fascinating 
power  of  the  soul  is  poured  through  the  eye  as  well  as  the 
tongue.  Let  the  eye  and  the  tongue  not  only  corrobo- 
rate but  intensify  each  other  in  expressing  the  full  mean- 
ing of  the  thought.  The  tongue  may  deceive,  the  eye 
never.  Not  the  particular  thought,  of  course,  but  the 
general  and  the  ruHng passions  print  themselves  legibly 
in  th3  eye,  and  can  be  read — nay,  felt,  even  by  a  very  su- 
perficial observer.  So  do  not  distract  the  impression, 
nor  destroy  it  by  making  them  talk  to  cross  purposes. 
Let  them  mutually  aid  each  other  to  make  the  impres- 
sion intenser  and  stronger.  At  the  same  time  that  you 
are  ever  ready  to  step  into  the  full  pace  of  the  conver- 
sation, have  the  reins  of  your  tongue  and  your  sense 
well  in  hand,  that  you  may  be  able  to  pull  up  at  once 
when  required  in  favor  of  another,  and  resume  at  once 


THE   TOPICS   OF   CONVERSATION.  105 

when  your  own  turn  comes  round.  Restraint  within 
your  natural  power  makes  a  more  effective  impression 
than  running  out  to  the  full  extent  of  your  pace,  and  at 
length  pulling  up  from  exhaustion.  These  are  the 
principal  points  in  the  mode,  and  now  let  us  briefly  sum 
up  the  chief  points  of  the  morale.  Begin  by  not  giving 
offence ;  that  is  the  only  way  to  end  by  pleasing. 
Avoid  flattering  people  to  their  face,  and  stabbing  them 
behind  their  back  ;  or  blessing  them  with  the  one  hand 
while  you  strike  a  deadly  blow  with  the  other.  It  is  very 
bad  to  be  a  person  capable  of  such  conduct,  but  fre- 
quently the  person  who  conducts  himself  so  is  not  a  bad 
fellow  at  heart — he  has  merely  donned  a  bad  moral  hab- 
it, because  it  is  a  little  fashionable,  and  looks  a  little 
smartish.  Take  care  of  being  considered  either  a  know- 
nothing  or  a  know-everything.  The  being  a  "  perfect 
ignoramus  "  is  not  more  to  be  avoided  than  the  being 
au  fait  in  regard  to  every  person  or  occurrence  that 
comes  upon  the  carpet.  It  is  an  ostentation  of  impos- 
sibilities, and  though  you  may  consider  yourself  very 
knowing,  or  rather  that  you  are  impressing  others  with 
the  belief  that  you  are  very  knowing,  you  are  simply  mak- 
ing game  of  yourself  for  others  in  company  where  you  are 
not  invited  to  shine.  You  are  sure  to  be  hanged  upon 
your  own  gallows.  The  only  means  of  information  the 
"  know-everything  "  generally  has  is  grounded  on  trust 
from  the  newsmongers,  yet  by  his  assurance  and  confi- 
dent assertion  you  would,  if  you  did  not  know  him, 
believe  that  he  had  been  behind  the  curtain  and  seen 
the  whole  with  his  own  eyes.  The  direction  taken  by 
such  a  speaker  is  generally  the  wonderful  in  matters  of 
occurrence,  or  the   sarcastically  bitter  in  matters  of 


Io6  TRAVELLING. 

character.  Yet  positive  falsehood  or  malice  prepense  m2iy 
not  be  in  the  talker's  heart,  only  the  vain  desire  to  be 
considered  "  up  to  everything,"  or  not  to  be  considered 
sentimental.  Avoid  all  false  glitter  and  that  which 
gleams  only  to  pierce.  Dare  not  only  to  have  feeling 
but  to  show  it.  Sensibility  is  the  characteristic  that 
forms  the  most  truly  attractive  behavior.  Enter  with 
delicacy  into  the  feelings  of  others,  consult  their  in- 
clinations, respect  their  opinions,  and  relieve  them  from 
all  embarrassment  and  anxiety,  and  you  will  shine 
not  only  before  their  eyes,  but  into  their  very  hearts, 
which  result  is  not  only  the  greatest  intellectual  but 
the  greatest  moral  triumph  that  can  grace  your  be- 
havior in  attempting  "how  to  shine." 

In  conclusion,  let  us  remind  you  of  what  we  insisted 
on  at  the  beginning, — that  a  dignified  and  pleasing 
manner  can  only  fit  truthfully  and  gracefully  a  worthy 
and  manly  nature.  The  ease  and  dignity  of  the  true 
gentleman  can  only  flow  from  real  native  worth.  Re- 
member that  the  beauty  and  brilliancy  of  the  polish  is 
more  due  to  the  grain  of  the  substance  than  to  any 
solid  virtue  in  the  burnish.  Consider  too  of  how  much 
importance  it  is  for  even  the  brightest  diamond  to  be 
properly  cut,  and  judiciously  set,  to  shine  to  the  great- 
est advantage. 

TRAVELLING. 

When  travelling,  a  gentleman  may  say  as  many  civil 
and  complimentary  things  to  a  lady  as  can  be  intro- 
duced, in  an  easy,  graceful  and  unconstrained  manner, 
free  from  all  appearance  of  low  gallantry :  it  casts  an 


TRAVELLING.  lO/ 

air  of  friendly  feeling  around  you.  Listen  to  the  pros- 
ing of  Ciceroni  and  Custode^  but  never  expose  their  ig. 
norance,  when  you  detect  it :  it  vexes  them,  and  does 
you  no  good.  Look  at  the  people,  the  sights,  scenery 
and  monuments  with  your  own  eyes ;  form  your  own 
opinions,  aided  by  the  best  information  you  can  obtain  ; 
and  do  not  follow  servilely  the  track  of  the  would-be 
liberal  tourists  of  the  modern  school,  who  admire  every 
thing  in  proportion  as  it  deviates  from  what  is  foreign. 
If  you  have  travelled  in  a  frank  and  cheerful  mood,  then 
it  will  be  delightful  to  discuss  your  adventures  with  the 
intelligent  and  instructed ;  again  to  laugh  at  what  was 
ridiculous,  and  grieve  over  scenes  that  awakened 
thoughts  of  sorrow.  It  will  be  profitable  also  to  com- 
pare notes  wdth  the  judicious  and  observing,  and  try 
the  value  of  your  own  opinions,  by  those  which  others 
may  have  formed  on  similar  subjects. 

Travelling  may  prove  agreeable  and  beneficial ;  but 
it  may  become  injurious  also.  Persons  of  talents  and 
education,  who  have  travelled  much,  have  invariably 
returned  to  their  native  land  confirmed  in  patriotism, 
and,  I  may  add,  grateful  also  for  the  many  advantages 
possessed  by  this  country  over  all  the  other  nations  of 
the  world.  The  secondary  class,  on  the  contrary — and 
they  are  of  course  the  most  numerous — think  it  neces- 
sary, in  order  to  be  looked  upon  as  persons  of  taste,  to 
discover  something  vastly  fine  in  ever}nhing  that  is  for- 
eign ;  and  always  return  in  perfect  rapture  with  conti- 
nental cooking,  dancing,  fiddling  and  singing ;  extoll- 
ing  the  languages,  literature  and  manners  of  foreign 
countries  far  above  those  of  their  native  land. 

Some  travellers  would  import  not  only  foreign  man- 


I08  LETTERS   OF   INTRODUCTION. 

ners,  but  foreign  languages  also,  and  compose  their  dis- 
course of  an  endless  mixture  of  French  and  Italian 
phrases.  This  is  the  height  of  puerile  affectation,  for 
there  is  no  modern  language  equal  to  our  own.  All 
English  conversation  must  therefore  be  carried  on  in 
pure  idiomatic  English.  And  if  you  are  even  allowed 
to  quote  a  verse,  line,  or  appropriate  saying  from  a  for- 
eign language,  it  is  the  utmost  extension  of  latitude 
that  can  be  granted ;  and  then  only  under  the  express 
condition,  that  all  the  parties  to  the  conversation  are, 
to  your  knowledge,  perfectly  familiar  with  the  language 
from  which  the  quotation  is  taken.  There  can  be  no 
exception  to  this  rule ;  for  all  pedantry,  all  attempts  to 
display  learning  in  s6ciety,  evince  only  bad  taste^ 
There  are  both  in  Scottish  and  Irish  very  expressive 
terms,  which  cannot  exactly  be  termed  alien,  and  may 
be  permitted  occasionally,  when  introduced  with  skill 
and  good  taste. 

If  foreign  phrases  are  objectionable,  slang  phrases 
are  even  worse,  for  they  are  mostly  vulgar,  and  mark 
the  man  who  adopts  them  as  unacquainted  with  the  us- 
ages of  the  polite  world ;  even  as  odd  and  extravagant 
phrases,  or  the  practice  of  applying  words  in  a  manner 
never  dreamed  of  by  earthly  lexicographers,  show  the 
vacant  mind,  resorting  to  empty  sound  in  the  absence 
of  good  sense. 

LETTERS   OF   INTRODUCTION CARDS INVITATIONS,  ETC. 

Do  not  lightly  give  or  promise  letters  of  introduction. 
Always  remember  that  when  you  give  letters  of  intro- 
duction you  lay  yourself  under  an  obligation  to  those 


LETTERS   OF   INTRODUCTION.  IO9 

friends  to  whom  they  may  be  addressed.  If  they  live 
in  a  great  city  Hke  New  York,  Paris  or  London,  you  in 
a  measure  compel  them  to  undergo  the  penalty  of  es- 
corting the  strangers  whom  you  introduce  to  some  of 
those  places  of  public  entertainment  in  which  the  cap- 
ital abounds.  In  any  case,  you  put  your  friends  to  the 
expense  of  inviting  them  to  their  table. 

We  cannot  be  too  cautious  how  we  tax  the  time  and 
purse  of  a  friend,  or  weigh  too  seriously  the  question  of 
mutual  advantage  in  the  introduction.  Always  ask 
yourself  whether  the  person  introduced  will  be  an  ac- 
ceptable acquaintance  to  the  one  to  whom  you  present 
him  and  whether  the  pleasure  of  knowing  him  will 
compensate  for  the  time  or  money  which  it  may  cost  to 
entertain  him.  If  the  stranger  is  in  any  way  unsuitable 
in  habits  or  temperament,  you  inflict  an  annoyance 
upon  your  friend  instead  of  a  pleasure.  In  questions 
of  introduction,  never  oblige  one  friend  to  the  discom- 
fort of  another. 

Letters  of  introduction  are  necessary  in  the  country, 
particularly  where  new  comers  enter  a  new  abode,  and 
wish  to  enter  the  best  society  of  the  place.  In  the  last 
case  the  inhabitants  should  call  first,  unless  the  new 
comer  brings  a  letter  of  introduction,  when  he  is  the 
first  to  call.  Instead,  however,  of  going  in,  he  sends 
his  letter  and  card,  and  waits  till  this  formal  visit  is  re- 
turned. Never  deliver  a  letter  of  introduction  in  per- 
son. It  places  you  in  the  most  undignified  position 
imaginable,  and  compels  you  to  wait  while  it  is  being 
read,  like  a  footman.  There  is  also  another  reason 
why  you  should  not  be  yourself  the  bearer'  of  your  in- 
troduction ;  />.,  you  compel  those  to  whom  you  are  in- 


IIO  LETTERS   OF  INTRODUCTION. 

troduced  to  receive  you,  whether  they  choose  or  not. 
It  may  be  that  they  are  sufficiently  ill-bred  to  take  no 
notice  of  the  letter  when  sent ;  and  in  such  case,  if  you 
presented  yourself  with  it,  they  would  most  probably 
receive  you  with  rudeness. 

It  is  at' all  events  more  polite  on  your  part  to  give 
them  the  option,  and,  perhaps,  more  pleasant.  If  the 
receivers  of  the  letter  be  really  well-bred,  they  will  call 
upon  you  or  leave  cards  the  next  day,  and  you  should 
return  their  attentions  within  the  week. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  a  stranger  sends  you  a  letter 
of  introduction,  and  his  or  her  card  (for  the  law  of  eti- 
quette here  holds  good  for  both  sexes),  you  are  bound, 
not  only  to  call  next  day,  but  to  follow  up  that  attention 
by  others.  If  you  are  in  a  position  to  do  so,  the  next 
correct  proceeding  is  to  send  an  invitation  to  dinner. 
Should  this  not  be  within  your  power,  you  can  prob- 
ably escort  the  stranger  to  some  exhibition,  concert, 
public  building,  museum,  or  other  place  likely  to  prove 
interesting  to  a  foreigner  or  provincial  visitor.  If  you 
are  but  a  clerk  in  a  bank,  remember  that  only  to  go 
over  the  Bank  of  England  would  be  interesting  to  a 
stranger  in  London.  In  short,  etiquette  demands  that 
you  shall  exert  yourself  to  show  kindness  to  the  stran- 
ger, if  only  out  of  compliment  to  the  friend  who  intro- 
duced hun  to  you. 

If  you  invite  strangers  to  dinner,  it  is  a  better  com- 
pliment to  ask  some  others,  than  to  dine  with  them 
tete-a-tetL  You  are  thereby  affording  them  an  oppor- 
tunity of  making  other  acquaintances,  and  are  assisting 
your  friend  in  still  further  promoting  the  purpose  for 
which  he  gave  the  introduction  to  yourself.     Be  careful 


VISITING  CARDS.  Ill 

at  the  same  time  only  to  ask  such  persons  as  you  are 
quite  sure  are  the  stranger's  own  social  equals. 

A  letter  of  introduction  must  be  carefully  worded, 
stating  clearly  the  name  of  the  person  introduced,  but 
with  as  few  personal  remarks  as  possible.  It  suffices, 
in  most  cases,  to  say  that  so-and-so  is  a  friend  of  yours 
whom  you  trust  your  other  friend  will  receive  with 
attention.  In  travelling,  one  cannot  have  too  many 
letters  of  introduction.  It  is  the  custom  in  foreign 
towns  for  the  new  comer  to  call  on  the  residents 
first,  a  hint  that  may  prove  acceptable  to  persons 
contemplating  a  long  or  short  residence  abroad.    . 

A  letter  of  introduction  should  be  given  unsealed, 
not  only  because  your  friend  may  wish  to  know  what  you 
have  said,  but  also  as  a  guarantee  of  your  own  good  faith. 
As  you  should  never  give  such  a  letter  unless  you  can 
speak  highly  of  the  bearer,  this  rule  of  etiquette  is  easy 
to  observe.  By  requesting  your  friend  to  fasten  the 
envelope  before  forwarding  the  letter  to  its  destination, 
you  tacitly  give  permission  to  inspect  its  contents. 
Let  your  note-paper  be  of  the  best  quality  and  of  the 
proper  size. 

The  fashion  of  cards  is  a  variable  one.  The  visiting 
card  should  be  perfectly  simple.  Glazed  cards  are  now 
wholly  out  of  fashion.  All  merely  honorary  or  official 
designations  should  be  omitted,  except  in  cards  designed 
for  purely  official  visits.  Some  gentlemen  and  un- 
married ladies  have  adopted  the  custom  of  omitting 
the  Mr.  and  Miss  upon  their  cards  j  as 

James  Alfred  Jones  •, 
or 

Agnes   Farmington. 


1 12  VISITING   CARDS. 

And  the  fashion  is  a  good  one.  Autographic  fac-similes 
for  visiting-cards  are  detestable  affectations  in  any  per- 
sons but  those  remarkable  for  talent,  whose  auto- 
graphs, or  fac-similes  of  autographs,  would  be  prized  as 
curiosities.  A  card  bearing  the  autographic  signature 
of  H.  W.  Longfellow  or  May  Agnes  Fleming  would 
possess  a  certain  interest ;  wJiereas  the  signature  of 
John  Smith  or  Mary  Jones  would  be  not  only  valueless, 
but  would  render  the  owner  ridiculous.  Persons  in 
mourning  must  have  cards  bordered  with  black. 

Some  married  people,  when  visiting  together,  use  a 
single  card,  engraved  thus  : — 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  Brown. 

We  inform  our  friends  and  acquaintance  of  the 
death  of  any  member  of  our  family  by  a  card.  These 
cards  should  simply  state  the  name,  age,  birthplace, 
residence,  and  place  of  interment. 

Wedding-cards  should  be  as  simple  and  unostenta- 
tious as  possible. 


MARRIAGE   CEREMONY.  II3 

FORM   OF   MARRIAGE    CEREMONY  AND    RECEPTION    NOTE 
— FORM  I. 

Mr,  and  Mrs,  Charles  B,  Foulke 

request  your  presence 
at  the  marriage  of  their  daughter 

Mable 

to 

Arnold  C.  Langdon 

on  Thursday  afternoon^  March  fourth^ 

at  three  o'clock^ 

at  Trinity  Church. 

Reception 
from  half-past  three  till  five. 

New  York. 
25  West  22,d  St, 


SHORT   FORM   OF   INTRODUCTION. 

Washington,  May  i,  1884. 
Dear  Sir  : 

I  have  the  honor  of  introducing  my  friend,  Mr.  Jas. 
Sutliffe,  to  your  acquaintance,  for  whom  I  ask  your 
kind  attentions.  Very  truly  yours, 

J.  B.  Taylor. 
Mr.  B.  Stone, 
Rahway,  N.  J. 
8 


i  14  INTKODUCTIONS. 

ANOTHER    FORM    OF    INTRODUCTION. 

Washington,  May  i,  1884. 
Dear  Sir: 

Allow  me  the  pleasure  of  introducing  the  bearer,  Mr. 
Thos.  P.  Forbes,  of  this  place  :  he  is  my  most  es- 
teemed friend.  With  the  assurance  that  any  attention 
shown  him  will  be  highly  appreciated, 

I  am  yours,  etc., 

B.  Talbot. 
To  Henry  Vroomer, 

Otsego,  N.  Y. 


introducing  to  a  friend  and  his  family. 

Portland,  May  i,  18 — 
My  Dear  Friend  Belknap  : 

Will  you  allow  me  the  very  great  pleasure  of  intro- 
ducing to  you  and  your  agreeable  family  my  friend, 
Mr.  Joseph  Barrows,  a  resident  of  this  city,  who  in- 
tends making  his  future  home  in  your  state. 

Our  intimacy  has  been  of  the  closest  for  years,  and  I 
am  very  anxious  that  you  should  know  such  a  desirable 
acquaintance. 

I  will  not  ask  your  friendly  offices  for  him,  as  I  think 
it  quite  unnecessary  to  do  so. 

My  family  join  me  in  sending  our  best  love,  and  de- 
sire your  kindest  remembrance, 

Yours  as  ever, 

J.  Staple  Howe. 

To  T.  T.  BtLKNAP, 

New  York. 


FAMILIAR   NOTE.  IL5 

CONGRATULATION    ON   A    BIRTHDAY. 

New  York,  May  i,  18 — . 
My  Dear  Charles  : 

As  it  is  natural  that  I  should  feel  an  interest  in  your 
welfare,  I  take  this  occasion  to  congratulate  you  upon 
reaching  your  15th  birthday.  Another  milestone  in  the 
journey  of  life  passed,  and  happily  without  care  or  sor- 
row. May  the  same  good  fortune  attend  your  future, 
and  aljow  you  many  similar  opportunities  of  accepting 
the  good  wishes  of  your  friends.  Invoking  Heaven's 
blessing  upon  you,  I  am  sincerely  yours, 

Randall  Hatch. 


NOTE   ACCOMPANYING   A   WEDDING   PRESENT. 

Mr.  Jerome  Waltham  sends  his  compliments  and 
best  wishes  to  Miss  Frances  Poole,  and  begs  that  she 
will  accept  the  accompanying  trifle  as  a  souvenir  of  his 
highest  esteem  and  sincere  desires  for  her  future  hap- 
piness. 

275 Ave., 

Oct  5,  1883. 


FAMILIAR   NOTE — FORM    I. 

(Among  intimates  a  more  pleasing  and  genial  style 
is  required,  as  follows  :) 

Friend  Will: 

Oblige  me  by  your  presence  here  at  a  dinner  to  be 
given  to  a  few  friends  on  next  Thursday  afternoon  at 
5,  sharp.  Sincerely  yours, 

T.  B.  Thorp. 


Il6  RECEPTIONS. 


CEREMONY  AND   RECEPTION — FORM   2. 

Ceremony 

Stjohn^s  Church,  Varick  Street, 

On  Wednesday,  May  4,  at  2  o'clock, 

AT  HOME 

Tuesdays  and  Fridays  in  May, 

At  the  residence  of  Mr.  E,  B,  Keeler,  42 Place, 

Albert  P.  Kirk.  Mary  Keeler. 


CEREMONY  WITH  RECEPTION  CARD — FORM  3. 

Mr,  and  Mrs.  James  Sparkhill 

request  the  pleas  we  of  your  coinpany 

at  tne  marriage  ceremony  of  their  daughter 

Caroline 

to 

Trotwood  Belcher 

on  Monday  Evenifig,  March  14,  1884, 
At  Eight  a  Clock. 

New  York, 
12  East St 


MARRIAGE  ANNOUNCEMENT.  II7 

RECEPTION    WITH    PERSONAL   CARDS — FORM    4. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Constant  Bowers 
request  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  C.  P.  Wood's  company  at 
the  wedding  reception  of  their  daughter,  on  Wednesday 
evening,  May  sixth,  from  8  until  11  o'clock. 

750 St., 

Tuesday^  April  28. 

For  written  invitations  this  form  is  the  best. 


ceremony   with    personal   cards   and   cards    for 
reception — form  5. 

Mrs.  Mary  B.  Coolidge 
requests  the  pleasure  of  your  company  at  the  marriage 
of  her  daughter  on  Friday  afternoon,  October  tenth,  at 
Four  O'clock. 

'375 -^^^• 

This  form  requires  a  reception  card  only. 


marriage  announcement. 

Mr.  Thomas  W.  Johnson, 

Miss  Frances  L.  Maine, 
Married 
Monday^  Jan,  16,  1884. 
(Enclose  Reception  Card  if  desired.) 
Or  the  notice  is  given  by  transmitting  two  cards  with 
the  combined  names,  residence,  and  hour  of  reception 
engraved  thereon ;  and  a  smaller  one  with  the  bride's 
maiden  name. 


il8  GOLDEN   WEDDING. 


WOODEN   WEDDING. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wm.  P.  Bancroft 

Request  the  pleasure  of  your  company 

on  Thursday  evening^ 

May  20, 

at  Eight  a  Clock. 


52 St. 

(Enclosing  a  wooden  card.) 


New  York, 


GOLDEN   WEDDING. 
1825—1875. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  M.  B.  Macklin 

Will  receive  their  friends  at  their  residence 

on  Monday  evening^ 

October  5, 

From  seven  until  twelve  0'' clock, 

25 St. 

R.  S.  V.  P. 


INVITATION   TO   A  DRIVE.  Up 

INVITATION    TO    DINNER FORM    I. 

Mrs.  Henry  Perkins  requests  the  pleasure  of  Mrs. 
Wm.  Sloan's  company  at  dinner  on  Thursday  even- 
ing, September  3,  at  eight  o'clock. 

R.  S.  V.  P. 

25 Ave, 

Be  very  precise  as  to  the  date  and  hour.  Each  invi- 
tation should  contain  the  name  of  the  individual  for 
whom  it  is  intended. 

Always  answer  a  dinner  invitation,  whether  you  in- 
tend being  present  or  not. 


ANNIVERSARY   WEDDINGS. 

First,  paper  wedding  ;  fifth,  wooden  wedding  ;  tenth, 
tin  wedding ;  fifteenth,  crystal  or  glass  wedding  ;  twen- 
tieth, floral  wedding ;  twenty-fifth,  silver  wedding ;  thir- 
tieth, pearl  wedding ;  thirty-fifth,  china  wedding ;  for- 
tieth, coral  wedding  ;  forty-fifth,  bronze  wedding  ;  fifti- 
eth, golden  wedding;  seventy-fifth,  diamond  wedding. 


INVITATION   TO   A   DRIVE. 

Will  Miss  Hattie  Haskins  do  Mr.  Gerald  the  honor 
of  accompanying  him  in  a  drive  to  the  Park  this  after- 
noon ?  If  so,  will  Mfss  Haskins  please  state  what 
hour  will  be  most  convenient. 

Wednesday  forenoon^  Sept,  4. 

The  favor  of  an  answer  is  requested  by  bearer. 


120  INVITATIONS. 

A   GIFT   WITH   A    NOTE. 

Will  Miss  Osborn  please  accept  the  accompanying 
package,  as  a  slight  token  of  the  high  esteem  and  re- 
gard of  her  sincere  friend, 

William  P.  Holliwell. 

New  York,  Dec,  25. 


children's  style. 


Master  James  Cross  requests  the  pleasure  of  your 
company  on  Saturday  evening,  January  7,  from  four 
to  ten  o'clock. 


invitation  to  a  picnic. 

Mr.  Jones  presents  his  kind  regards  to  Miss  Rowe, 
and  solicits  the  pleasure  of  her  company,  to  join  a 
small  party  intending  to  pass  the  day  at  Millbrae  on 
Wednesday  next  (7th). 

Carriages  will  be  in  waiting  at  eight  o'clock  a.m., 
W^ednesday. 

July  1st, 


invitation    to    dinner — FORM    2. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wm.  P.  Jerrardieu  request  the  pleasure 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  T.  Poe's  company  at  dinner  on 
Thursday  evening,  Oct.  17,  at  eight  o'clock. 

323 *$•/. 

The  favor  of  an  answer  is  requested. 


CELEBRATION   OF  A   BIRTHDAY.  121 

PARTY    INVITATIONS — FORM    I,    GENERAL   STYLE. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  A.  B.  Compton  request  the  pleasure  of 
your  company  on  Tuesday  evening,  February  fifth, 
from  eight  to  twelve  o'clock. 

R.  S.  V.  P. 

75 ^^. 

Written  notes  should  contain  the  name  of  the  party. 
The  word  "  your  "  in  printed  ones. 


PRESIDENTIAL   RECEPTION — FORM    4. 

The  President   of   the  United    States   requests   the 

company  of at   the  Reception  in 

honor  of  His  Majesty  the  King  of  Brazil,  on  Wednes- 
day evening,  December  5,  at  nine  o'clock. 

Executive  Mansion, 

(It  is  customary  to  regard  an  invitation  from  the 
President  as  a  command,  and  is  never  declined  except 
for  imperative  reasons.) 


CELEBRATION    OF    BIRTHDAY — FORM    5. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sanderson  request  the  honor  of  • 


company  to  celebrate  their  son's  majority,  on 

Friday  evening,  January  5,  18 — . 

R.  S.  V,  P. 
No.  -~  West  t^^th  St, 


122  REGRET. 


PARTY   INVITATION — FORM    2. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Austin  request  the  pleasure  of  ■ 


company  on  Wednesday  evening,  Nov.  20,   at 

eight  o'clock. 

Soiree  Dansante, 

Answer  to  be  sent  to  250  Fourth  St. 


TO    MEET    FRIENDS FORM    4. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  B.  Talbot  request  the  pleasure  of  ■ 


company  Tuesday  evening,  Sept.  8,  from  eight 

to   eleven    o'clock,  to   meet   Monsieur  and   Madame 
Chappelle. 

No,  —  Madison  Ave, 


ACCEPTING   AN    INVITATION   TO   DINNER. 

Mr.  Charles  Howell  has  much  pleasure  in  accepting 
Mr.  Waltham's  kind  invitation  for  Wednesday  evening, 
September  15. 

Windsor  Hotel, 
Monday^  September  6. 


regret. 


Mr.  Howell  regrets  that,  owing  to  his  absence  from 
the  city,  he  will  be  unable  to  accept  Mr.  Waltham's 
kind  invitation  for  Wednesday  evening,  Sept.  15. 

Windsor  Hotel, 
Monday^  Sept,  6. 


INFORMAL  INVITATIONS.  123 

children's    parties — FORM    I. 

Master  Henry  Cammeron  requests  the  pleasure  of 

company  on   Wednesday   next,  from 

twelve  until  four  o'clock. 

Lexington  Ave., 

Oct  2. 

FORM  2. 


Miss  Hattie  Hallet  requests  the  pleasure  of 


company  on    Thursday    evening,    December 


12,  from  five  to  ten  o'clock. 
Boorman  Place. 


Informal  invitations  for  an  afternoon  or  evening  en- 
tertainment, or  reception,  are  issued  on  cards,  and  are 
becoming  popular. 


FORM  I. 


The  pleasure  of  your 
company  is  requested  at  a 


HOP 


on   Wednesday  evening^  Dec.  10,  18 — , 
at  9  o'clock. 


MANSION    HOUSE. 


124  VISITING — MORNING   CALLS. 

F^TE   CHAMpfiTRE — FORM    2. 

The  honor  of company  is  requested 

at  the  "  Elms  "  on  Monday,  August  5,  at  one  o'clock. 
(Signatures  of  the  Committee  of  Arrangements.) 

R.  S.  V.  P. 

If  it  rain  the  Fete  will  be  postponed  until  Wednes- 
day. 

VISITINC5 MORNING   CALLS. 

A  morning  visit  should  be  paid  between  the  hours  of  3 
and  5  P.M.  By  observing  this  rule  you  avoid  intrud- 
ing before  the  luncheon  is  removed,  and  leave  in  suffi- 
cient time  for  the  lady  of  the  house  to  have  an  hour  or 
two  of  leisure  for  her  drive  and  dinner  toilette.  Never 
pay  a  visit  before  noon  ;  and  be  careful  always  to  avoid 
the  luncheon  hours  of  your  friends.  Some  ladies  dine 
with  their  children  at  one  or  half -past  one  o'clock,  and 
are  consequently  unprepared  for  the  early  reception  of 
visitors.  When  you  have  once  ascertained  this  to  be 
the  case,  be  careful  never  to  intrude  again  at  the  same 
hour. 

A  good  memory  for  these  trifles  is  one  of  the  hall- 
marks of  good-breeding. 

A  first  visit  should  be  returned  the  next  day ;  at 
latest  within  three  days.  A  visit  of  ceremony — and, 
indeed,  a  visit  of  friendship — should  always  be  brief. 
If  even  the  conversation  becomes  animated,  beware  of 
letting  your  call  exceed  half  an  hour  in  length.  It  is 
better  to  let  your  friends  regret  rather  than  desire  your 
withdrawal. 


VISITING — MORNING   CALLS.  125 

When  returning  visits  of  ceremony,  you  may,  without 
impoliteness,  leave  your  card  at  the  door,  without  going 
in.  Do  not,  however,  fail  to  inquire  if  the  family  be 
well.  Should  there  be  daughters  or  sisters  residing 
with  the  lady  upon  whom  you  call,  leave  a  card  for  each. 
If  there  are  visitors  staying  in  the  house,  it  is  better  to 
distinguish  the  cards  intended  for  them  by  writing  their 
names  above  your  own.  A  married  lady,  calling  upon 
a  married  lady,  leaves  her  husband's  card  for  the  hus- 
band of  her  friend. 

Unless  when  returning  thanks  for  "  kind  inquiries," 
and  announcing  your  arrival  in,  or  departure  from,  town, 
it  is  not  considered  respectful  to  send  round  cards  by  a 
servant. 

Visits  of  condolence  are  paid  within  the  week  after  the 
event  which  occasions  them.  Personal  visits  of  this 
kind  are  made  only  by  relations  and  very  intimate 
friends,  who  should  be  careful  to  make  the  conversa- 
tion as  little  painful  as  possible. 

In  paying  visits  of  congratulation,  you  should  always 
go  in,  and  be  hearty  in  your  congratulations.  Wedding- 
cards  are  generally  sent  round  to  such  people  as  one 
wishes  to  keep  up  acquaintance  with,  and  these  will 
call  first  on  the  newly-married  pair.  A  visit  is  also  due 
to  the  parents  who  have  invited  you  to  the  wedding- 
breakfast. 

A  call  should  invariably  be  made  within  a  week  upon 
friends  or  acquaintances  at  whose  house  you  have 
dined,  or  from  whom  you  have  received  an  invitation  to 
dine. 

A  well-bred  person  will  endeavor  to  receive  visitors 
at  any  time.     If  you  are  occupied  and  cannot  afford  to 


126  VISITING — MORNING   CALLS. 

be  interrupted,  it  is  better  to  instruct  your  servant  to 
say  that  you  are  never  "  at  home,"  except  upon  certain 
days  and  at  certain  hours.  If  a  servant  once  admits  a 
visitor  within  the  hall,  receive  him  at  any  inconven- 
ience :  but  take  care  that  the  circumstance  does  not 
occur  again.  A  lady  should  never  keep  a  visitor  wait- 
ing. Some  ladies  only  receive  visitors  on  a  stated 
afternoon  in  each  week  ;  but  this  is  a  somewhat  preten- 
tious custom,  only  to  be  justified  by  the  exigencies  of  a 
very  lofty  position.  Umbrellas  and  overcoats  should 
always  be  left  in  the  hall. 

When  a  gentleman  makes  a  morning  call,  he  should 
never  leave  his  hat  or  riding-whip  in  the  hall,  but 
should  take  both  into  the  room.  To  do  otherwise 
would  be  to  make  himself  too  much  at  home.  The  hat 
should  never  be  laid  on  a  table,  pianoforte,  or  any  arti- 
cle of  furniture,  but  must  be  held  properly  in  the  hand. 
If  you  are  compelled  to  lay  it  aside,  put  it  on  the  floor. 

Never  take  favorite  dogs  into  a  drawing-room  when 
you  make  a  morning  call.  Their  feet  may  be  dusty, 
or  they  may  bark  at  strangers,  or,  being  of  too  friendly 
a  disposition,  may  take  the  liberty  of  lying  on  a  lady's 
gown,  or  jumping  upon  a  velvet  sofa  or  an  ea.^y  chair. 
Besides,  your  friend  may  have  a  favorite  cat  already 
established  before  the  fire,  and  in  that  case  a  battle  may 
ensue.  Many  persons,  too,  have  a  constitutional  antip- 
athy to  dogs,  and  others  never  allow  their  own  to  be 
seen  in  the  reception-rooms.  For  all  or  any  of  these 
reasons,  a  visitor  has  no  right  to  inflict  upon  his  friend 
the  society  of  his  dog  as  well  as  of  himself. 

Neither  is  it  well  for  a  mother  to  take  young  children 
with  her  when  she  pays  morning  visits  ;  their  presence, 


VISITING — MORNING   CALLS.  1 27 

umess  they  are  unusually  well-trained,  can  only  be  pro- 
ductive of  anxiety  to  yourself  and  your  hostess.  She, 
while  striving  to  amuse  them,  or  to  appear  interested  in 
them,  is  secretly  anxious  for  the  fate  of  her  album,  or 
the  ornaments  upon  hev  efagere ;  while  the  mother  is 
trembling  lest  her  children  should  say  or  do  something 
objectionable. 

If  you  do  not  keep  a  close  carriage,  you  should  never 
pay  visits  of  ceremony  in  wet  weather.  To  enter  a 
drawing-room  with  mud-bespattered  boots  and  damp 
clothes  is  a  /aux  pas  that  no  lady  or  gentleman  will 
commit. 

It  has  of  late  become  customary  to  offer  tea  to  those 
visitors  who  make  their  calls  between  the  hours  of  four 
and  five  o'clock.  Tea  should  be  sent  round,  already 
poured  out,  with  sugar  basin  and  cream  ewer,  on  a 
small  waiter.  Biscuits  or  bread-and-butter  may  accom- 
pany it. 

On  entering  a  crowded  drawing-room,  go  at  once  to 
pay  your  respects  to  the  lady  of  the  house,  and  take  the 
seat  she  indicates  to  you.  A  gentleman  should  take 
any  vacant  chair  he  may  find,  without  troubling  his 
hostess  to  thmk  for  him.- 

A  gentleman  ought  to  rise  upon  the  entrance  of  la- 
dies. A  lady  does  not  rise.  It  is  not  permissible  to 
leave  one's  chair  in  order  to  get  nearer  the  fire.  As  a 
general  rule,  an  introduction  is  only  followed  by  a  bow, 
unless  the  persons  to  whofn  your  hostess  introduces 
you  are  her  relations  or  very  old  friends,  and  for  some 
special  reason  she  desires  that  you  should  make  their 
acquaintance.  In  this  case  you  give  your  hand.  A 
man  has  no  right  to   take  a  lady's  hand  till  it  is  of- 


128  VISITING — MORNING   CALLS. 

fered.  Two  ladies  shake  hands  gently  and  softly. 
A  lady  gives  her  hand  to  a  gentleman,  but  does  not 
shake  his  hand  in  return.  Young  ladies  only  bow  to 
unmarried  men.  It  is  the  privilege  of  a  superior  to 
offer  or  withhold  his  hand  ;  an  inferior  should  never  be 
the  first  to  extend  the  hand.  Foreigners  rarely  shake 
hands,  and  then  only  with  intimate  friends. 

If  other  visitors  are  announced,  and  you  have  already 
remained  as  long  as  courtesy  requires,  wait  till  they  are 
seated  ;  then  take  leave  of  your  hostess ;  bow  politely 
to  the  newly-arrived  guests  ;  and  retire.  You  will,  per- 
haps, be  urged  to  remain  ;  but  having  once  arisen,  it  is 
best  to  go.  There  is  always  a  certain  air  of  gaucherie 
in  resuming  your  seat,  and  repeating  the  ceremony  of 
leave-taking.  If  you  have  occasion  to  look  at  your 
watch  during  a  call,  ask  permission  to  do  so,  and  apolo- 
gize for  it  on  the  plea  of  other  appointments. 

A  gentleman  should  rise  when  any  lady  takes  her 
leave,  and,  if  in  his  own  house,  should  escort  her  to  her 
carriage. 

In  receiving  morning  visits,  it  is  not  necessary  that  a 
lady  should  lay  aside  the  employment  in  which  she  may 
be  engaged,  particularly  if  it  consist  of  light  or  orna- 
mental needle-work.  Politeness,  however,  requires  that 
music,  drawing,  or  any  absorbing  occupation,  be  at 
once  abandoned.  A  well-bred  lady  pays  equal  atten- 
tion to  all  her  visitors,  and  endeavors  to  make  conver- 
sation as  general  as  possible.  It  is  allowable  to  pay 
extra  attention  to  any  person  of  distinguished  rank, 
extreme  age,  or  world-wide  reputation.  No  one  would 
resent  a  little  exclusive  politeness  to  a  duke,  a  nonage- 
narian, or  a  Victor  Hugo.     To  do  homage  to  the  rich, 


VISITING— MORNING   CALLS.  129 

simply  because  they  are  rich,  is  a  piece  of  snobbism 
which  even  the  most  amiable  find  it  difficult  to  forgive. 

A  lady  need  not  advance  to  receive  visitors  when 
announced,  unless  they  are  persons  to  whom  she  is  de- 
sirous of  testifying  particular  respect.  It  is  sufficient 
if  she  rises,  moves  forward  a  single  step  to  shake  hands 
with  them,  and  remains  standing  till  they  are  seated. 

When  her  visitors  rise  to  take  leave,  she  should  rise 
also,  and  remain  standing  till  they  have  quite  left  the 
room.  It  is  not  necessary  to  accompany  them  to  the 
drawing-room  door,  but  the  bell  should  be  rung  in  good 
time,  that  the  servant  may  be  ready  in  the  hall  to  let 
them  out. 

A  lady  can  never  call  upon  a  gentleman  unless  pro- 
fessionally or  officially.  To  do  so  would  be,  not  only  a 
breach  of  good  manners,  but  of  strict  propriety. 

A  lady  should  dress  well,  though  not  too  richly,  when 
she  pays  or  receives  morning  visits.  If  she  has  a  car- 
riage at  command,  she  may  dress  more  elegantly  than 
*if  she  were  on  foot.  A  gentleman  should  always  be 
well  dressed.  No  one  in  the  present  day  can  afford  to 
dress  badly. 

Trifling  as  many  of  these  little  rules  may  at  first 
sight  appear,  they  are  by  no  means  unimportant.  Tri- 
fles in  the  aggregate  become  great  social  forces. 

It  has  been  well  said  that  "  attention  to  the  punc- 
tilios of  politeness  is  a  proof  at  once  of  self-respect,  and 
of  respect  for  your  friend."  Though  irksome  at  first, 
these  trifles  soon  cease  to  be  matters  for  memory,  and 
become  things  of  mere  habit.  To  the  thoroughly  well- 
bred  they  are  a  second  nature.  Let  no  one  neglect  them 
who  is  desirous  of  pleasing  in  society;  and,  above  all, 


I30  THE   BALL. 

let  no  one  deem  them  unworthy  of  attention.  They 
are  precisely  the  trifles  which  do  most  to  make  social 
intercourse  agreeable,  and  a  knowlege  of  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  gentleman  and  gentlewoman  from  the 
parvefiu, 

THE   BALL. 

Invitations  to  a  ball  should  be  sent  out  three  weeks 
or  a  month  beforehand,  and  should  be  answered  imme- 
diately. 

The  first  requisites  for  a  pleasant  ball  are  good 
rooms,  good  music,  and  plenty  of  good  company.  A 
very  small  ball  is  almost  sure  to  be  dull.  No  one 
should  attempt  to  give  this  sort  of  entertainment  with- 
out being  fully  prepared  for  a  considerable  expenditure 
of  time,  money,  and  patience.  Nothing  is  so  unsatis- 
factory as  "  a  carpet  dance  with  the  dear  girls  to  play." 
If  you  wish  your  friends  to  enjoy  the  dancing,  you 
must  give  them  a  good  floor  and  professional  music ; 
if  you  wish  them  to  enjoy  the  supper,  you  must  let  it 
be  well  served  and  in  great  abundance ;  lastly,  if  you 
wish  them  to  enjoy  the  company,  you  must  provide 
your  visitors  with  suitable  partners. 

The  preparation  for  a  ball  begins  with  the  reception 
rooms,  which  must  be  made  as  light  and  airy  as  possi- 
ble. Nothing  produces  a  happier  effect  than  an  abund- 
ance of  shrubs,  plants,  and  flowers  used  freely  on  the 
stairs,  in  the  recesses,  landing-places,  etc.  The  fire- 
places, should  be  screened  by  flowers  in  summer,  and 
be  provided  with  guards  in  winter  or  spring.  It  is 
easy,  by  the  help  of  screens  and  evergreens,  to  arrange 


THE   BALL.  I3I 

a  small  gallery  for  the  musicians,  so  that  they  shall  be 
heard  and  not  seen. 

A  refreshment-room  should,  if  possible,  be  on  the 
same  floor  as  the  ball-room,  in  order  that  the  ladies 
may  be  spared  all  risk  from  draughty  staircases.  A 
lobby  for  the  ladies'  cloak-room,  and  a  hat-room  for 
the  gentlemen,  are  both  indispensable. 

As  the  number  of  guests  at  a  dinner  party  is  regu- 
lated by  the  size  of  the  table,  so  should  the  number  of 
invitations  to  a  ball  be  limited  by  the  proportions  of 
the  ball-room.  A  prudent  hostess  will,  however,  al- 
ways invite  more  guests  than  she  really  desires  to  en- 
tertain, in  the  certainty  that  there  will  be  some  desert- 
ers when  the  appointed  evening  comes  round ;  but  she 
will  at  the  same  time  remember  that  to  overcrowd  her 
room  is  to  spoil  the  pleasure  of  those  who  love  dancing, 
and  that  a  party  of  this  kind,  when  too  numerously  at- 
tended, is  as  great  a  failure  as  one  at  which  too  few 
are  present. 

A  room  which  is  nearly  square,  yet  a  little  longer 
than  it  is  broad,  will  be  found  the  most  favorable  for 
a  ball.  It  admits  of  two  quadrille  parties,  or  two 
round  dances,  at  the  same  time.  In  a  perfectly  square 
room  this  arrangement  is  not  so  practicable  or  pleasant. 
A'verylong  and  narrow  room  is  obviously  of  the  worst 
shape  for  dancing,  and  is  fit  only  for  quadrilles  and 
country  dances. 

The  top  of  the  ball-room  is  the  part  nearest  the  or- 
chestra. In  a  private  room,  the  top  is  where  it  would 
be  if  the  room  were  a  dining-room.  It  is  generally  at 
the  farthest  point  from  the  door.  Dancers  should 
be  careful  to  ascertain  the  top  of  the  room  before  tak- 


132  THE    BALL. 

ing  their  places,  as  the  top  couples  always  lead  the 
dances. 

A  good  floor  is  of  the  utmost  importance  in  a  ball- 
room. In  a  private  house,  nothing  can  be  better  than 
a  smooth,  well-stretched  holland,  with  the  carpet  be- 
neath. 

Abundance  of  light  and  free  ventilation  are  indis- 
pensable to  the  spirits  and  comfort  of  the  dancers. 

Good  music  is  as  necessary  to  the  prosperity  of  a 
ball  as  good  wine  to  the  excellence  of  a  dinner. 
No  hostess  should  tax  her  friends  for  this  part  of 
the  entertainment.  It  is  the  most  injudicious  econ- 
omy imaginable.  Ladies  who  would  prefer  to  dance 
are  tied  to  the  pianoforte  ;  and  as  few  amateurs  have 
been  trained  in  the  art  of  playing  dance  music  with 
that  strict  attention  to  time  and  accent  which  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  the  comfort  of  the  dancers,  a  total 
and  general  discontent  is  sure  to  result.  To  play 
dance  music  thoroughly  well  is  a  branch  of  the  art 
which  requires  considerable  practice.  It  is  as  differ- 
ent from  every  other  kind  of  playing  as  whale  fishing 
is  from  fly  fishing.  Those  who  give  private  balls  will 
do  well  ever  to  bear  this  in  mind,  and  to  provide 
skilled  musicians  for  the  evening.  For  a  small  party, 
a  piano  and  cornopean  make  a  very  pleasant  combina- 
tion. Unless  where  several  instruments  are  engaged, 
we  do  not  recommend  the  introduction  of  the  violin. 
Although  in  some  respects  the  finest  of  all  solo  instru- 
ments, it  is  apt  to  sound  thin  and  shrill  when  em- 
ployed on  mere  inexpressive  dance  tunes,  and  played 
by  a  mere  dance  player. 

The  room  provided  for  the   accommodation  of  the 


THE   BALL.  1 33 

ladies  should  have  several  looking-glasses  ;  attendants 
to  assist  the  fair  visitors  in  the  arrangement  of  their 
hair  and  dresses ;  and  rows  of  hooks  for  the  cloaks 
and  shawls.  It  is  well  to  affix  tickets  to  the  cloaks, 
giving  a  duplicate  to  each  lady.  Needles  and  thread 
should  be  always  at  hand  to  repair  any  little  accident 
incurred  in  dancing.  The  refreshment-room  should  be 
kept  amply  supplied  with  coffee,  lemonade,  ices,  wine, 
and  biscuits  during  the  evening.  Where  this  cannot 
be  arranged,  the  refreshments  should  be  handed  round 
between  the  dances. 

The  question  of  supper  is  one  which  so  entirely  de- 
pends on  the  means  of  those  who  give  a  ball  or  even- 
ing party,  that  very  little  can  be  said  upon  it  in  a  trea- 
tise of  this  description.  Where  money  is  no  object,  it 
is  of  course  always  preferable  to  have  the  whole  sup- 
per, "with  all  appliances  and  means  to  boot,"  sent  in 
from  some  first-rate  house.  It  spares  all  trouble, 
whether  to  the  entertainers  or  their  servants,  and  re- 
lieves the  hostess  of  every  anxiety.  Where  circum- 
stances render  such  a  course  imprudent,  we  would  only 
observe  that  a  home-provided  supper,  however  simple, 
should  be  good  of  its  kind,  and  abundant  in  quantity. 
Dancers  are  generally  hungry  people,  and  feel  them- 
selves much  aggrieved  if  the  supply  of  sandwiches 
proves  unequal  to  the  demand. 

Perhaps  the  very  best  plan  is  the  French  one,  of 
having  supper  arranged  on  long  buffets  with  servants 
behind  to  attend  to  all  comers.  No  one  sits  down  to 
ball  suppers,  or  if  seats  are  arranged  by  the  wall  for 
the  ladies,  the  gentlemen  stand.  In  the  hot  season  of 
the  year,  iced  things  should  be  had  in  plenty.     Cold 


134  THE   BALL. 

chickens,  game,  etc.,  should  be  carved  in  readiness, 
and  trifle,  tipsy  cake,  and  mayonnaise  are  indispens- 
able. 

Great  incon  ^nience  is  often  experienced  through 
the  difficulty  of  procuring  cabs  at  the  close  of  an  even- 
ing party.  Unless  more  men  servants  than  one  are 
kept,  it  is  better  to  engage  a  policeman  with  a  lantern 
to  attend  on  the  pavement  during  the  evening,  and  to 
give  notice  in  the  course  of  the  day  at  a  neighboring  cab- 
stand, so  as  to  secure  plenty  of  vehicles  at  the  time 
when  they  are  likely  to  be  required.  Visitors  will  do 
well  to  engage  a  brougham  for  the  evening,  as  cleaner 
and  more  respectable  than  the  ordinary  cab.  Carpet 
should  be  laid  down  on  the  door-steps  ;  and  if  the 
weather  prove  wet,  a  temporary  covering  from  the  gate 
to  the  door  should  be  hired. 

No  gentleman  should  accept  an  invitation  to  a  ball 
if  he  does  not  dance.  When  ladies  are  present  who 
would  be  pleased  to  receive  an  invitation,  those  gentle- 
men who  hold  themselves  aloof  are  guilty,  not  only  of  a 
negative,  but  a  positive,  act  of  neglect. 

To  attempt  to  dance  without  a  knowledge  of  dancing 
is  not  only  to  make  one's  self  ridiculous,  but  one's 
partner  also.  No  lady  or  gentleman  has  the  right  to 
place  a  partner  in  this  absurd  position. 

On  entering  the  ball-room,  the  visitor  should  at  once 
seek  the  lady  of  the  house,  and  pay  her  respects  to  her. 
Having  done  this,  she  may  exchange  salutations  with 
such  friends  and  acquaintances  as  may  be  in  the  room. 

No  lady  should  accept  an  invitation  to  dance  from  a 
gentleman  to  whom  she  has  not  been  introduced.  In 
case  any  gentleman  should  commit  the  error  of  so  in- 


THE   BALL.  1 35 

viting  her,  she  should  not  excuse  herself  on  the  plea  of 
a  previous  engagement,  or  of  fatigue,  as  to  do  so  would 
imply  that  she  did  not  herself  attach  due  importance  to 
the  necessary  ceremony  of  introduction.  Her  best  re- 
ply would  be  to  the  effect  that  she  would  have  much 
pleasure  in  accepting  his  invitation,  if  he  would  procure 
an  introduction  to  her.  This  observation  may  be  taken 
as  applying  only  to  public  balls.  No  lady  should  ac- 
cept refreshments  from  a  stranger  at  a  public  ball ;  for 
these  she  must  rely  on  her  father,  brother,  or  old  friend. 
At  a  private  party  the  host  and  hostess  are  sufficient 
guarantees  for  the  respectability  of  their  guests ;  and 
although  a  gentleman  would  show  a  singular  want  of 
knowledge  of  the  laws  of  society  in  acting  as  we  have 
supposed,  the  lady  who  should  reply  to  him  as  if  he  were 
merely  an  impertinent  stranger  in  a  public  assembly- 
room  would  be  implying  an  affront  to  her  entertainers. 
The  mere  fact  of  being  assembled  together  under  the 
roof  of  a  mutual  friend  is  in  itself  a  kind  of  general 
introduction  of  the  guests  to  each  other. 

An  introduction  given  for  the  mere  purpose  of  ena- 
bling a  lady  and  gentleman  to  go  through  a  dance  to- 
gether does  not  constitute  an  acquaintanceship.  The 
lady  is  at  hberty  to  pass  the  gentleman  in  the  parjc  the 
next  day  without  recognition. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  a  lady  should  be  acquainted 
with  the  steps^  in  order  to  walk  gracefully  or  easily 
through  a  quadrille.  An  easy  carriage  and  a  knowl- 
edge of  ikiQ  figures  are  all  that  is  necessary. 

No  walking  about  the  rooms  after  a  dance  is  permitted 
in  good  society.  The  young  lady  is  instantly  handed 
back  so  the  care  of  her  chaperone. 


136  THE    BALL. 

We  now  pass  to  that  part  of  ball-room  etiquette 
which  chiefly  concerns  gentlemen. 

A  gentleman  cannot  ask  a  lady  to  dance  without  be- 
ing first  introduced  to  her  by  some  member  of  the  host- 
ess's family. 

Never  enter  a  ball-room  in  other  than  full  evening 
dress,  and  white  or  light  kid  gloves. 

A  gentleman  cannot  be  too  careful  not  to  injure  a 
lady's  dress.  The  young  men  of  the  present  day  are 
inconceivably  thoughtless  in  this  respect,  and  often 
seem  to  think  the  mischief  which  they  do  scarcely 
worth  an  apology.  Cavalry  officers  should  never 
wear  spurs  in  a  ball-room. 

Bear  in  mind  that  all  casino  habits  are  to  be  scrupu- 
lously avoided  in  a  private  ball-room.  It  is  an  affront 
to  a  highly-bred  lady  to  hold  her  hand  behind  you  or  on 
your  hip,  when  dancing  a  round  dance.  We  have 
seen  even  aristocratic  young  men  of  the  *'  fast"  genus 
commit  these  unpardonable  offences  against  taste  and 
decorum. 

Never  forget  a  ball-room  engagement.  It  is  the 
greatest  neglect  and  slight  that  a  gentleman  can  oifer 
to  a  lady. 

At  the  beginning  and  end  of  a  quadrille  the  gentle- 
man bows  to  his  partner,  and  bows  again  on  handing 
her  to  a  seat. 

After  dancing,  the  gentleman  may  offer  to  conduct 
the  lady  to  the  refreshment-room. 

Engagements  for  one  dance  should  not  be  made 
while  the  present  dance  is  yet  in  progress. 

If  a  lady  happens  to  forget  a  previous  engagement 
and    stand    up   with   another  partner,  the   gentleman 


THE   BALL.  1 37 

whom  she  has  thus  slighted  is  bound  to  believe  that  she 
has  acted  from  mere  inadvertence,  and  should  by  no 
means  suffer  his  pride  to  master  his  good  temper.  To 
cause  a  disagreeable  scene  in  a  private  ball-room  is  to 
affront  your  host  and  hostess,  and  to  make  yourself  ab- 
surd.    In  a  public  room  it  is  no  less  reprehensible. 

Always  remember  that  good  breeding  and  good 
temper  (or  the  appearance  of  good  temper)  are  in- 
separably connected. 

Young  gentlemen  are  earnestly  advised  not  to  limit 
their  conversation  to  remarks  on  the  weather  and  the 
heat  of  the  room.  It  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  incumbent 
on  them  to  do  something  more  than  dance  when  they 
invite  a  lady  to  join  a  quadrille.  If  it  be  only  upon 
the  news  of  the  day,  a  gentleman  should  be  able  to  of- 
fer at  least  three  or  four  observations  to  his  partner  in 
the  course  of  a  long  half-hour. 

Never  be  seen  without  gloves  in  a  ball-room,  though 
it  were  only  for  a  few  moments.  Those  who  dance  much, 
and  are  particularly  soigne  in  matters  relating  to  the 
toilette,  take  a  second  pair  of  gloves  to  replace  the 
first  when  soiled. 

A  thoughtful  hostess  will  never  introduce  a  bad  dancer 
to  a  good  one,  because  she  has  no  right  to  punish  one 
friend  in  order  to  oblige  another. 

It  is  not  customary  for  married  persons  to  dance  to- 
gether in  society. 

A  gentleman  coriducts  his  last  partner  to   supper; 
waits  upon  her  till  she  has  had  as  much  refreshment  as' 
she  wishes,  and  then  takes  her  back  to  the  ball-room  or 
her  chaperone. 

However  much  pleasure  he  may  take   in  a  lady's 


138  DINNER    PARTIES. 

society,  he  must  not  ask  her  to  dance  too  frequently. 
Engaged  persons  would  do  well  to  bear  this  in  mind. 

Withdraw  from  a  ball-room  as  quietly  as  possible,  so 
that  your  departure  may  not  be  observed  by  others,  and 
so  cause  the  party  to  break  up.  If  you  meet  the  lady 
of  the  house  on  your  way  out,  take  your  leave  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  other  guests  may  not  observe  it ;  but 
by  no  means  seek  her  out  for  that  purpose. 

No  person  who  has  not  a  good  ear  for  time  and  tune 
need  hope  to  dance  well. 

At  the  conclusion  of  a  dance,  the  gentleman  bows 
to  his  partner,  and  conducts  her  to  her  chaperone. 
Where  a  room  is  set  apart  for  refreshments,  he  offers 
to  conduct  her  thither. 

Lastly,  a  gentleman  should  not  go  to  a  ball  unless  he 
has  previously  made  up  his  mind  to  be  agreeable  :  that 
is,  to  dance  with  the  plainest  as  well  as  the  most 
beautiful ;  to  take  down  an  elderly  chaperone  to  supper, 
instead  of  her  lovely  charge,  with  a  good  grace  ;  to  en- 
ter into  the  spirit  of  the  dance,  instead  of  hanging  about 
the  doorway ;  to  abstain  from  immoderate  eating,  drink- 
ing, or  talking ;  to  submit  to  trifling  annoyances  with 
cheerfulness  ;  in  fact,  to  forget  himself,  and  contribute 
as  ixiuch  as  possible  to  the  amusement  of  others. 

DIN^TER    PARTIES. 

"  Les  animaux  se  repaissent ;  Phomme  mange ;  Phomme  d'esprit 
seul  sait  manger." — Brillat-Savarin. 

It  is  impossible  to  over-estimate  the  importance  of 
dinners.  **  Providence,'^  says  Dr.  Prout,  "has  gifted 
man  with  reason  :  to  his   reason,   therefore,    is. left  the 


DINNER    PARTIES.  139 

choice  of  his  food  and  drink,  and  not  to  instinct,  as 
among  the  lower  animals.  It  thus  becomes  his  duty  to 
apply  his  reason  to  the  regulation  of  his  diet ;  to  shun 
excess  in  quantity,  and  what  is  obnoxious  in  quality  ;  to 
adhere,  in  short,  to  the  simple  and  the  natural,  among 
which  the  bounty  of  his  Maker  has  afforded  him  an 
ample  selection  ;  and  beyond  Which,  if  he  deviates, 
sooner  or  later  he  will  pay  the  penalty." 

There  is  no  denying  the  fact  that  the  wise  as  well  as 
the  foolish  must  perforce  be  a  slave  to  his  cook  and  his 
stomach.  Napoleon  is  said  to  have  lost  the  battles  of 
Borodino  and  Leipsic  because  he  had  dined  in  too 
great  a  hurry.  What  a  warning  !  History  could 
doubtless  supply  hundreds  of  instances  in  which  a 
badly-used  digestion  has  wreaked  no  less  important 
revenges.  It  should  be  the  first  duty  of  every  house- 
holder to  obtain  the  best  possible  dinners  for  her  family 
her  purse  can  afford.  Let  no  false  sentiment  lead  her  to 
consider  indifference  to  food  as  an  heroic  virtue,  or 
he  due  appreciation  of  it  as  a  despicable  gourmandise, 
Man  is  what  he  eats,  and  woman  is  the  caterer.  Let 
her  perform  her  duties  well,  and  she  will  reap  an  ample 
reward. 

"  The  life  of  man,"  says  Dr.  Lankester,  "  is  like  a 
fire.  Just  as  the  fire  must  have  fuel  in  order  that  it 
may  burn,  so  we  must  have  food  in  order  that  we  may 
live  :  and  the  analogy  is  in  many  respects  quite  cor- 
rect ;  for  we  find  that  man  really  produces  in  his  body 
a  certain  amount  of  heat,  just  as  the  fire  does ;  and  the 
result  of  ^e  combustion  of  the  materials  of  his  food  is 
the  same  as  the  result  of  burning  fuel  in  a  fire.  Man 
exists,  in  fact,  in  consequence  of  the  physical  and  chem- 


I40  DINNER    PARTIES. 

ical  changes  that  go  on  in  his  body  as  the  result  of  tak- 
ing food.'^  Further  on  he  says  :  '*  Cooks  in  the  kitchen, 
and  ladies  who  superintend  cooks  and  order  dinners 
for  large  families,  never  think  of  asking  whether  food 
contains  the  right  proportions  of  those  ingredients 
which  secure  health ;  yet,  without  these,  babies  get 
rickets,  young  ladies  acquire  crooked  spines,  fathers 
get  gouty,  mothers  have  palpitations  ;  and  they  do  not 
think  of  ascribing  these  things  to  the  food  which  has 
deprived  them  of  the  proper  constituents  of  their  food." 

It  is,  however,  obviously  impossible  that  we  should, 
in  a  work  like  the  present,  enter  upon  the  scientific 
side  of  the  food  question.  We  have  only  to  do  with 
dinners  and  dinner-givers.  The  etiquette  of  the  din- 
ner-table should  be  mastered  by  all  who  aspire  to  the 
entree  of  good  society.  Ease,  savoir-faire^  and  good 
breeding  are  nowhere  more  indispensable  than  at  the 
dinner-table,  and  the  absence  of  them  is  nowhere  more 
apparent.  How  to  eat  soup  and  what  to  do  with  a 
cherr}'-stone  are  weighty  considerations  when  taken  as 
the  index  of  social  status  ;  and  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say,  that  a  young  woman  who  elected  to  take  claret 
with  her  fish  or  eat  peas  with  her  knife  would  justly 
risk  the  punishment  of  being  banished  from  good  so- 
ciety. As  this  subject  is  one  of  the  most  important  of 
which  we  have  to  treat,  we  may  be  pardoned  for  intro- 
ducing an  appropriate  anecdote  related  by  the  French 
poet  Delille. 

Delille  and  Marmontel  were  dining  together  in  the 
month  of  April,  1786,  and  the  conversation  happened  to 
turn  upon  dinner-table  customs.  Marmontel  observed 
how  many  little  things  a  well-bred  man  was  obliged  to 


DINNER   PARTIES.  I4I 

know,  if  he  would  avoid  being  ridiculous  at  the  table  of 
his  friends. 

*'  They  are,  indeed,  innumerable,"  said  Delille ; 
'•  and  the  most  annoying  fact  of  all  is,  that  not  all  the 
wit  and  good  sense  in  the  world  can  help  one  to  divine 
them  untaught.  A  little  while  ago,  for  instance,  the 
Abbd  Cosson,  who  is  Professor  of  Literature  at  the 
College  Mazarin,  was  describing  tome  a  grand  dinner 
to  which  he  had  been  invited  at  Versailles,  and  to  which 
he  had  sat  down  in  the  company  of  peers,  princes,  and 
marshals  of  France. 

"  *  I'll  wager,  now,'  said  I,  *  that  you  committed  a 
hundred  blunders  in  the  etiquette  of  the  table.' 

"  '  How  so  } '  replied  the  Abb^,  somewhat  nettled. 
*  What  blunders  could  I  make  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  I 
did  precisely  as  others  did.' 

"  *  And  I,  on  the  contrary,  would  stake  my  life  that 
you  did  nothing  as  others  did.  But  let  us  begin  at  the 
beginning,  and  see  which  is  right.  In  the  first  place, 
there  was  your  table-napkin — what  did  you  do  with 
that  when  you  sat  down  at  table  ? ' 

"  *  What  did  I  do  with  my  table-napkin  ?  Why,  I 
did  like  the  rest  of  the  guests :  I  shook  it  out  of  the 
folds,  spread  it  before  me,  and  fastened  one  corner  to 
my  button-hole.' 

<' '  Very  well,  mon  cher^  you  were  the  only  person  who 
did  so.  No  one  shakes,  spreads,  and  fastens  a  table 
napkin  in  that  manner.  You  should  have  only  laid  it 
across  your  knees.     What  soup  had  you? ' 

"  '  Turtle.' 

"  *  And  how  did  you  eat  it  ? ' 


142  DINNER   PARTIES. 

"  *  Like  every  one  else,  I  suppose.  I  took  m}^  spoon 
in  one  hand  and  my  fork  in  the  other.' 

*'  Your  fork  !  Good  heavens  !  None  but  a  savage 
eats  soup  with  a  fork.  But  go  on.  What  did  you  take 
next  ? ' 

"  ^  A  boiled  egg.' 

"  '  Good  ;  and  what  did  you  do  with  the  shell  ? ' 

"  *  Not  eat  it,  certainly.  I  left  it,  of  course,  in  the 
egg-cup.' 

"  *  Without  breaking  it  through  with  your  spoon  ? ' 

"  *  Without  breaking  it.' 

"  *  Then,  my  dear  fellow,  permit  me  to  tell  you  that 
no  one  eats  an  egg  without  breaking  the  shell  and 
leaving  the  spoon  standing  in  it.  And  after  your 
egg?' 

"  *  I  asked  for  some  houilU.' 

"  '  For  bouill^ I  It  is  a  term  that  no  one  uses.  You 
should  have  asked  for  beef — never  for  bouilU.  Well, 
and  after  the  bouilUV 

"*  I  asked  the  Abbe  de  Badenvillais  for  some  fowl.' 

"  *  Wretched  man  !  Fowl,  indeed  !  You  should  have 
asked  for  chicken  or  capon.  The  word  "  fowl "  is 
never  heard  out  of  the  kitchen.  But  all  this  applies 
only  to  what  you  ate ;  tell  me  something  of  what  you 
drank,  and  how  you  asked  for  it  ? ' 

"  *  I  asked  for  champagne  and  bordeaux  from  those 
who  had  the  bottles  before  them.' 

"  ^Know  then,  my  good  friend,  that  only  a  waiter, 
who  has  no  time  or  breath  to  spare,  asks  for  cham- 
pagne or  bordeaux.  A  gentleman  asks  for  vin  de 
Champagne  and  vin  de  Bordeaux.  And  now  inform 
me  how  you  ate  your  bread  ? ' 


DINNER   PARTIES.  143 

"  *  Undoubtedly  like  all  the  rest  of  the  world.  I  cut 
it  up  into  small  square  pieces  with  my  knife.' 

"  *  Then  let  me  tell  you  that  no  one  cuts  bread ;  you 
should  always  break  it.  Let  us  go  on  to  the  coffee. 
How  did  you  drink  yours  ? ' 

" '  Pshaw  !  at  least  I  could  make  no  mistake  in  that. 
It  was  boiling  hot ;  so  I  poured  it,  a  little  at  a  time,  in 
the  saucer,  and  drank  it  as  it  cooled.' 

"  *  Eh  Men  !  then  you  assuredly  acted  as  no  other 
gentleman  in  the  room.  Nothing  can  be  more  vulgar 
than  to  pour  tea  or  coffee  into  a  saucer.  You  should 
have  waited  till  it  cooled,  and  then  have  drunk  it  from 
the  cup.  And  now  you  see,  my  dear  cousin,  that  so  far 
from  doing  precisely  as  the  others  did,  you  acted  i*i  no 
one  respect  according  to  the  laws  prescribed  by  eti- 
quette.' " 

An  invitation  to  dine  should  be  replied  to  immedi- 
ately, and  unequivocally  accepted  or  declined.  Once 
accepted,  nothing  but  an  event  of  the  last  importance 
should  cause  you  to  fail  in  your  engagement.  To  be 
exactly  punctual  on  these  occasions  is  the  only  polite- 
ness. If  you  are  too  early,  you  are  in  the  way ;  if  too 
late,  you  spoil  the  dinner,  annoy  the  hostess,  and  are 
hated  by  the  guests.  Some  authorities  are  even  of 
opinion  that  in  the  question  of  a  dinnerparty  "never" 
is  better  than  "  late  ;"  and  one  author  has  gone  so  far 
as  to  say,  "  If  you  do  not  reach  the  house  till  dinner  is 
served,  you  had  better  retire  and  send  an  apology,  and 
not  interrupt  the  harmony  of  the  courses  by  awkward 
excuses  and  cold  acceptance." 

When  the  party  is  assembled,  the  mistress  of  the, 
house  will  point  out  to  each  gentleman  the  lady  whom 


144  DINNER   PARTIES. 

he  is  to  conduct  to  table.  The  guests  then  go  down 
according  to  precedence  of  rank.  This  order  of  prece- 
dence must  be  arranged  by  the  host  or  hostess,  as  the 
guests  are  probably  unacquainted,  and  cannot  know 
each  other's  social  lank.  If  the  society  is  of  a  distin- 
guished kind,  she  will  do  well  to  consult  Debrett  or 
Burke,  before  arranging  her  visitors. 

The  following  rules  should  be  remembered  : — 

Persons  of  title  take  precedence  according  to  rank 
and  date  of  creation.  Diplomatic  foreigners  of  the 
first  rank  go  first ;  any  foreign  ambassador,  as  the  rep- 
resentative of  a  crowned  head,  takes  precedence  even 
of  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal.  Precedence  by  courtesy 
is  usually  given  to  a  bishop,  who  ranks  with  an  earl. 
The  same  courtesy  is  extended  to  all  the  dignified  clergy ; 
wives  of  the  clergy  take  precedence  of  the  wives  of 
barristers ;  and  the  wives  of  esquires  take  precedence 
of  clergymen's  and  barristers'  wives  ;  whilst  the  latter, 
by  right,  take  precedence  of  the  untitled  wives  of  mili- 
tary and  naval  men.  Physicians  rank  next  to  barris- 
ters. 

When  rank  is  not  in  question,  other  claims  to  prece- 
dence must  be  considered.  The  lady  who  is  the  great- 
est stranger  should  be  taken  down  by  the  master  of 
the  house,  and  the  gentleman  who  is  the  greatest 
stranger  should  conduct  the  hostess.  Married  ladies 
take  precedence  of  single  ladies,  elder  ladies  of 
younger  ones,  and  so  on.  A  young  bride  takes  prece- 
dence of  all  other  ladies. 

When  dinner  is  announced,  the  host  offers  his  arm 
to  the  lady  of  most  distinction,  invites  the  rest  to  follow 
by  a  few  words  or  a  bow,  and  leads  the  way ;  the  visit- 


DINNER   PARTIES.  I4S 

ors  follow  in  the  order  that  the  host  and  hostess  have 
arranged.  The  lady  of  the  house  remains,  however, 
till  the  last,  that  she  may  see  her  guests  go  down  in 
their  prescribed  order ;  but  the  plan  is  not  a  convenient 
one.  It  would  be  much  better  that  the  hostess  should 
be  in  her  place  as  the  guests  enter  the  dining-room,  in 
order  that  she  may  indicate  their  seats  to  them  as  they 
enter,  and  not  find  them  all  crowded  together  in  uncer- 
tainty when  she  arriv^es. 

The  number  of  guests  at  a  dinner  party  depends  on 
the  size  of  the  room  and  the  size  of  the  table.  The 
rule  laid  down  by  Brillat-Savarin,  that  the  numbers  at 
a  dinner  party  should  not  be  less  than  the  Graces  nor 
more  than  the  Muses,  is  a  good  one.  Even  numbers, 
however,  are  always  the  most  convenient,  and  the  num- 
ber of  thirteen  should  be  avoided  out  of  respect  to  any 
possible  superstition  on  the  part  of  the  guests.  The 
number  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  should  be  equal. 

Great  tact  must  be  exercised  in  the  distribution  of 
your  guests.  If  you  have  a  wit,  or  a  good  talker, 
among  your  visitors,  it  is  well  to  place  him  near  the 
centre  of  the  table,  where  he  can  be  heard  and  talked 
to  by  all.  It  is  obviously  a  bad  plan  to  place  two  such 
persons  together ;  they  extinguish  each  other.  Nor 
should  two  gentlemen  of  the  same  profession  be  placed 
close  together,  as  they  are  likely  to  fall  into  exclusive 
conversation,  and  amuse  no  one  but  themselves. 

A  judicious  host  (or  hostess)  will  consider  the  poli- 
tics, religious  opinions,  and  tastes  of  his  friends,  thus 
avoiding  many  social  quicksands,  and  making  the  party 
a  vehicle  of  delightful  social  intercourse. 


146  ^  DINNER   PARTIES. 

Very  young  ladies  or  gentlemen  should  not  be  asked 
to  dinner  parties.  "  Young  people/'  says  the  clever 
author  of  "Miss  Majoribanks,"  *^are  the  ruin  of 
society."  Young  people  certainly  are  the  ruin  of  din- 
ner parties. 

The  fashion  of  dinners  is  wholly  unlike  what  it  was 
fifty  or  even  thirty  years  ago.  Dishes  are  now  never 
placed  on  the  table  at  a  dinner  of  ceremony,  and  rarely 
even  at  small  friendly  dinners. 

The  dinner  a  la  jRusse  is  a  great  improvement  on  the 
old  fashion  ;  it  is  more  elegant  and  more  agreeable  to 
see  only  crystal,  plate,  flowers,  fruit,  and  epergnes  be- 
fore you  ;  and  few  people  will  resort  to  the  old  mode 
who  have  once  begun  the  new.  The  dinner  a  la  Russe 
is  the  poetry  of  dining. 

The  shape  of  the  table  is  an  important  point.  Cir- 
cular and  oval  dining  tables  are  beginning  to  super- 
sede the  old-fashioned  parallelogram.  An  expanding 
circular  table  of  this  form  has  been  recently  invented, 
the  enlargement  of  the  circle  being  effected  by  the 
insertion  of  wedge-shaped  leaves  radiating  from  a 
common  centre.  The  horse-shoe  table  is  adapted  for 
state  banquets  only.  The  oval  table  offers  most  ad- 
vantages for  conversation ;  the  host  and  hostess  sit  in 
the  middle  of  each  side,  opposite  to  each  other.  The 
French  fashion  of  the  host  and  hostess  sitting  side  by 
side  in  the  middle  of  one  side  of  the  table  is  not  a  bad 
one. 

The  dining-room  must  be  carpeted,  even  in  the 
middle  of  summer,  to  deaden  the  noise  of  servants' 
feet.  The  chairs  should  have  slanting  backs,  and  each 
lady  should  be  provided  with  a  footstool.     The  tern- 


DINNER   PARTIES.  I47 

perature  of  the  dining-room  must  never  be  too  low. 
Thirteen  to  sixteen  degrees  of  Reaumur  are  fixed  for 
it  by  the  author  of  the  ^^Physiologic  du  GoUt ;  "  but  it  is 
easy  to  decide  on  this  matter  for  oneself.  In  winter 
the  fire  should  be  lighted  some  hours  before  dinner, 
and  the  room  being  thoroughly  warmed  it  may  then 
burn  low.     A  blazing  fire  is  always  objectionable. 

The  appointments  of  the  table  may  be  as  sumptuous 
on  the  one  hand,  or  as  delicately  elegant  on  the  other, 
as  suits  the  tastes  and  means  of  the  family.  Persons 
of  rank  and  family  may  at  slight  additional  cost  have 
this  dinner-service  and  table-linen  made  expressly  for 
them,  with  their  arms  or  crest  painted  on  the  one  and 
woven  in  the  others.  This  is  far  more  recherM  \};\2.\:i 
any  mere  design.  The  crest  is  also  engraven  on  the 
silver;  but  it  is  perhaps  pushing  heraldic  pretension  too 
far  to  engrave  it  also  on  the  wine  and  finger  glasses. 

We  now  imitate  the  Romans  and  cover  our  tables 
with  flowers — a  happy  innovation.  Of  flowers,  the 
richest  and  choicest,  one  can  hardly  have  too  many. 
A  small  glass  vase  containing  a  "  button-hole /'  bou- 
quet placed  at  every  cover  is  very  dainty ;  the  guests 
remove  the  bouquets  on  leaving  the  table.  Glass  flower 
vases  are  perhaps  preferable  to  silver  ones. 

Light  is  really  needful  for  digestion,  and  should  be 
supplied  in  profusion.  Lamps  are  out  of  place  on  a 
dining  table.  Gas  is  simply  intolerable.  Lockhart 
describes  in  his  life  of  Scott  how  the  host  introduced 
gas  into  the  dining-room  at  Abbotsford.  "  In  sitting 
down  to  table  in  autumn,"  he  said,  "  no  one  observed 
that  in  each  of  three  chandeliers  there  lurked  a  tiny 
head  of  red  light.     Dinner  passed  off  and  the  sun  went 


148  DINNER   PARTIES. 

down,  and  suddenly,  at  the  turning  of  a  screw,  the 
room  was  filled  with  a  gush  of  splendor  worthy  of  the 
palace  of  Aladdin  ;  but,  as  in  the  case  of  Aladdin,  the  old 
lamp  would  have  been  better  in  the  upshot.  Jewellery 
sparkled,  but  cheeks  and  lips  look  cold  and  wan  in  this 
fierce  illumination ;  and  the  eye  was  wearied,  and  the 
brow  ached,  if  the  sitting  was  at  all  protracted." 

We  must,  therefore,  have  recourse  to  epergnes  and 
wax  candles.  There  should  be  more  lights  than  guests. 
The  candles  should  be  of  real  wax,  and  of  great  size, 
not  less  than  two  to  the  pound.  Too  much  light  is 
almost  as  objectionable  as  too  little,  since  among  your 
guests  may  be  persons  whose  eyes  are  weak,  and  to 
whom  it  is  positive  torture  to  face  a  brilliant  light. 
The  best  plan  is  to  have  abundance  of  wax  lights  on  the 
chimney-piece  and  walls,  and  not  too  many  on  the  table. 

Plenty  of  attendance  is  indispensable.  One  servant 
to  every  two  guests,  or  at  least,  one  to  every  three  are 
necessary.  They  should  be  well  trained,  silent,  observ- 
ant, scrupulously  dressed,  and  free  from  gaucherie.  A 
good  servant  is  never  awkward.  His  boots  never  creak, 
he  never  breathes  hard,  has  a  cold,  is  obliged  to  cough, 
treads  on  a  lady's  dress,  or  breaks  a  dish.  If  only  two 
servants  are  in  attendance,  one  should  begin  with  the 
guest  on  his  master's  right,  ending  with  the  lady  of  the 
house  ;  the  other  with  the  guest  on  his  mistress'  right, 
ending  with  the  master.  If  they  do  not  wear  gloves, 
their  hands  must  be  scrupulously  clean. 

The  clergyman  of  highest  rank  is  asked  to  say  grace  ; 
but  if  the  master  of  the  house  is  himself  in  the  Church, 
he  is  his  own  family  chaplain,  and  pronounces  the  grace 
himself. 


PINNER   PARTIES.  I49 

Written  bills  of  fare  should  be  laid  to  every  two 
guests. 

The  most  elegant  novelties  for  the  appointment  of 
the  dinner  table  should  be  obtained.  Among  the  latest 
of  these  we  may  mention  silver  fish-knives,  semicircular 
salad  plates,  and  glasses  of  any  new  shape  lately  intro- 
duced. 

In  the  case  of  small  unceremonious  dinners,  where 
the  dishes  are  brought  to  table,  the  gentleman  sitting 
nearest  the  lady  of  the  house  should  offer  to  carve  for 
her.  Every  gentleman  should  therefore  know  how  to 
carve  well.  The  soup  comes  to  table  first,  and  then  the 
fish.  It  is  best  to  help  both  and  send  round  to  each 
guest  without  asking,  as  they  can  refuse  if  they  choose. 

But  the  dinner  a  la  Russe  being  now  so  universal, 
we  must  more  especially  confine  our  observations  to 
that  form.  Granted,  then,  that  no  dishes  appear  on  the 
table,  the  rules  of  dining  are  few  and  easy.  Both  host 
and  guest  are  relieved  from  every  kind  of  responsibility. 
Dish  after  dish  comes  round,  as  if  by  magic ;  and 
nothing  remains  but  to  eat  and  be  happy. 

To  eat  and  talk  well  at  the  same  time  is  possible  ; 
but  the  old-fashioned  way  of  "  seeing  your  dinner  before 
you,"  and  having  to  carve,  as  well  as  to  talk  and  eat, 
involved  a  triple  duty  only  within  the  compass  of  very 
few.  We  only  remember  one  person  who  could  carve 
a  hare,  turkey,  or  pheasant,  as  the  case  might  be,  enjoy 
his  dinner,  and  enliven  a  very  dull  company  by  anec- 
dotes all  the  time.  But  he  was  a  man  of  genius.  It  is 
not  well  to  talk  too  much  at  a  dinner  party.  One  must 
observe  a  happy  medium  between  dulness  and  brill- 
iancy, remembering   that  a  dinner  is  not  a  conversa- 


IJO  DINNER   PARTIES. 

zione.  In  talking  at  dinner,  or  indeed  at  any  time, 
gesticulation  is  objectionable.  Nothing  can  well  be 
more  awkward  than  to  overturn  a  wine-glass,  or  upset 
the  sauce  upon  the  dress  of  your  nearest  neighbor. 
Talking  with  the  mouth  full  is  an  unpardonable  sole- 
cism in  good  manners. 

All  small  preferences  for  different  wines  or  dishes 
should  be  kept  in  subordination.  The  duty  of  satisfy- 
ing the  tastes  of  the  guests  belongs  to  the  mistress  of 
the  house ;  and  if  she  has  failed  to  do  so,  the  failure 
must  not  be  exposed.  Dishes  and  wines  should  not  be 
mentioned  unless  on  the  table. 

The  minor  etiquette  of  the  dinner  table  must  be  at 
all  times  remembered.  As  soon  as  you  are  seated,  re- 
move your  gloves,  place  your  table-napkin  across  your 
knees,  only  partially  unfolding  it,  and  place  your  roll  on 
the  left  side  of  your  plate.  As  soon  as  you  are  helped, 
begin  to  eat :  or  if  the  viands  are  too  hot,  take  up  your 
knife  and  fork  and  appear  to  begin.  To  wait  for  others 
is  not  only  old-fashioned  but  ill-bred.  Never  offer  to 
pass  on  the  plate  to-which  you  have  been  helped.  The 
lady  of  the  house  who  sends  your  plate  to  you  is  the 
best  judge  of  the  precedence  at  her  own  table.  In  eat- 
ing soup,  remember  always  to  take  it  from  the  side  of 
the  spoon  and  to  make  no  sound  in  doing  so.  Soup 
and  fish  should  never  be  partaken  of  a  second  time. 
Whenever  there  is  a  servant  to  help  you,  never  help 
yourself ;  when  he  is  near,  catch  his  eye  and  ask  for 
what  you  want.  Eating  and  drinking  should  always  be 
done  noiselessly.  To  drink  a  whole  glassful  at  once, 
or  drain  a  glass  to  the  last  drop,  is  inexpressibly  vulgar. 

Knife,  fork,  and  spoon  may  be  abused.     It  is  need- 


DINNER    PARTIES.  15I 

less,  perhaps,  to  hint  that  the  knife  must  never  be  car- 
ried to  the  mouth.  Cheese  must  be  eaten  with  a  fork, 
as  also  peas  and  most  vegetables.  Only  puddings  of  a 
very  soft  kind,  and  liquids,  require  a  spoon. 

Bread  is  broken,  never  cut. 

Mustard,  salt,  etc.,  should  be  put  at  the  side  of  the 
plate,  and  one  vegetable  should  never  be  heaped  on  the 
top  of  the  other.  Always  remember  that  a  wineglass  is 
to  be  held  by  the  stem  and  not  the  bowl,  and  that  the 
plate  must  not  be  tilted  on  any  occasion.  In  eating, 
one  should  not  bend  the  head  voraciously  over  the 
plate,  extend  the  elbows,  or  rattle  the  knife  and  fork ; 
but  transact  all  the  business  of  the  table  quietly  and 
gently. 

Anything  like  greediness  or  indecision  are  ill-bred, 
The  choicest  pieces  are  ignored ;  and  you  must  not 
take  up  one  piece  and  lay  it  down,  in  favor  of  another,  or 
hesitate  whether  you  will  partake  of  the  dish  at  all.  It  is 
gauche'wx  the  extreme  not  to  know  one'^s  own  mind  about 
trifles. 

Silver  fish-knives  are  found  at  the  best  dinner-tables  ; 
but  where  there  are  none,  a  piece  of  crust  should  be 
taken  in  the  left  hand,  and  the  fork  in  the  right. 

In  eating  asparagus,  it  is  well  to  observe  what  others 
do,  and  act  accordingl3^  The  best  plan  is  to  break  off 
the  heads  with  the  fork,  and  thus  convey  them  to  the 
mouth.  In  France  every  one  takes  up  the  asparagus 
with  his  fingers.  In  eating  stone-fruit,  rsuch  as  cher- 
ries, damsons,  etc.,  the  same  diversity  of  fashion  pre- 
vails. Some  put  the  stones  out  of  the  mouth  into  the 
spoon,  and  so  convey  them  to  the  plate.  Others  cover 
the  lips  with  the  hand,  drop  the  stones  unseen  into  the 


152  DINNER   PARTIES. 

palm,  and  so  deposit  them  on  the  side  of  the  plate. 
Very  dainty  feeders  press  out  the  stone  with  the  fork, 
in  the  first  instance,  and  thus  get  rid  of  the  difficulty. 
This  is  the  safest  way  for  ladies. 

Fruit  is  eaten  with  a  silver  knife  and  fork.  A  very 
expert  fruit  eater  will  so  pare  an  orange  as  to  lose  none 
of  the  juice  ;  but  anythir?g  must  be  sacrificed  rather 
than  one's  good  manners. 

At  dinner  parties  ladies  seldom  eat  cheese,  or  drink 
liqueurs,  or  take  wine  at  dessert.  Finger  glasses  con- 
taining water  slightly  warmed  and  perfumed  are  placed 
to  each  person  at  dessert.  In  these  you  dip  your  fingers, 
wiping  them  afterwards  on  your  table-napkin.  If  the 
finger-glass  and  d'oyley  are  placed  on  your  dessert-plate, 
you  should  immediately  remove  the  d'oyley  to  the  left 
hand  and  place  the  finger-glass  upon  it.  The  French, 
supposed  to  be  the  politest  of  European  nations,  and 
the  leading  authority  in  all  matters  relating  to  the  table, 
are  guilty  of  what  seems  to  us  the  disgusting  and  unpar- 
donable innovation  of  introducing  into  the  finger-bowl 
a  small  glass  cup  filled  with  tepid  lemon-water,  with 
which  each  guest  rinses  his  mouth  I 

The  servants  retire  after  handing  round  the  dessert. 

It  is  a  foreign  custom,  and  an  excellent  one,  to  serve 
coffee  in  the  dining-room  before  the  ladies  retire ;  it 
puts  an  end  to  the  prolonged  wine-drinking,  now  so 
universally  condemned  by  well-bred  persons.  When 
the  ladies  retire,  the  gentlemen  rise,  and  the  gentleman 
nearest  the  door  holds  it  open  for  them  to  pass  through. 

Taking  wine  with  people  is  now  wholly  out  of  fashion. 
Toasts  have  met  with  the  same  fate.  To  remain  long 
in  the  dining-room  after  the  ladies  have  left  is  a  poor 


DINNER    PARTIES.  I  53 

compliment  to  both  the  hostess  and  her  fair  visitors. 
Still  worse  is  it  to  rejoin  them  with  a  flushed  face  and 
impaired  powers  of  thought.  A  refined  gentleman  is 
always  temperate. 

The  "  art  of  dining  "  can  hardly  be  taught  in  a  book. 
Few  perhaps  will  go  to  the  length  of  a  certain  French- 
man, M.  Henrion  de  Pensey,  who  said  : — "  I  regard  the 
discovery  of  a  dish  as  a  far  more  interesting  event  than 
the  discovery  of  a  star;  for  we  have  already  stars 
enough,  but  we  can  never  have  too  many  dishes ;  and  I 
shall  not  regard  the  sciences  as  sufficiently  honored  or 
adequately  represented  amongst  us,  until  I  see  a  cook 
in  the  first  class  of  the  Institute.''  At  the  same  time, 
no  judicious  and  candid  person  will  deny  the  impor- 
tance of  a  science  which  improves  health,  prolongs 
existence,  and  promotes  geniality.  That  gastronomy 
deserves  to  be  ranked  among  the  sciences,  who  will 
deny,  since  its  very  etymology,  yaarijpy  stomach,  vb^oq^ 
law,  implies  the  rationale  of  digestion  ?  And  on  our 
digestion  depends  not  only  the  life  material,  but  the  life 
intellectual.  The  history  of  gastronomy,  however,  is 
the  history  of  manners  ;  and  in  its  literature  we  find 
views  of  society  of  all  kinds,  and  anecdotes  of  all  the 
most  celebrated  men  and  women  whose  names  have 
come  down  to  us.  At  the  dinner  table  have  met,  from 
the  earliest  periods,  the  wit,  the  courtier,  the  beauty, 
and  the  poet.  At  the  dinner  table,  as  Brillat-Savarin 
says,  "  love,  friendship,  politics,  intrigue,  power,  parti- 
sanship, ambition,  and  fame,"  have  all  come  into  play  : 
and  elsewhere  he  adds,  "The  pleasures  of  the  table 
bring  neither  enchantments,  nor  ecstasies,  nor  trans- 
ports ;  but  they  gain  in  duration  what  they  lose  in  inten- 


154  DINNER    PARTIES. 

sity,  and  are,  above  all,  distinguished  by  the  particular 
quality  of  inclining  us  favorably  towards  all  other  pleas- 
ures, or  at  least  consoiing  us  for  the  loss  of  them." 
Nothing  is  more  unreasonable  than  to  confuse  the  per- 
son who  "likes  to  dine,"  as  Dr.  Johnson  expresses  it, 
with  the  regular  gourmand.  Why  may  we  be  allowed 
to  criticise  books,  music,  pictures,  and  yet  be  stigma- 
tized as  gourmands  if  we  discuss  that  meal  upon  which 
our  health,  our  temper,  and  the  preservation  of  our  fac- 
ulties depends  ?  Away  then  with  sham  deprecations 
and  Spartan  indifference,  and  let  us  all  promote  "the 
greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number,"  by  promot- 
ing the  doctrines  of  those  benefactors  of  their  kind — 
Soyer  and  Francatelli. 

The  literature  of  the  table  supplies  us  with  much  in- 
struction and  amusement.  We  are  amazed  at  the  great 
bounty  of  nature  and  the  skill  of  those  cooks  who  have 
turned  that  bounty  to  account.  They  have  taught  us 
to  appreciate  the  turkey  fattened  on  the  olives  of  Mount 
Hymettus,  the  minestra  del  riso  of  Milan,  the  char  of 
the  Lake  of  Geneva,  the  red  trout  of  Andernach, 
the  crawfish  of  the  Rhine,  the  white  truffles  of 
Piedmont,  the  wild  boar  of  South  Germany,  che 
becafico  of  the  Pontine  Marshes,  the  whitebait  of  the 
Thames,  the  Pulborough  eel,  and  the  canvas-backed 
duck  of  America.  They  have  invented  dishes  and 
combinations  to  tempt  the  daintiest  appetite,  and  have 
labored  from  morning  till  night  to  procure  the  satis- 
faction and  enjoyment  of  others.  Wonderful  is  the 
biography  of  these  men  of  science.  It  is  related  of 
the  Prince  of  Soubise  (immortalized  by  the  sauce 
named  after  him)  that  he   one  day  announced   to   his 


DINNER   PARTIES.  155 

cook  (a  man  of  science,  and  gifted  with  princely 
notions  of  expenditure)  that  he  was  going  to  give  a 
suppernext  day,  and  demanded  a  menu  and  an  estimate. 
The  estimate  was  presented,  and  the  first  item  on  which 
the  prince  cast  his  eyes  stood  thus : — "  Fifty  hams." 
"  What !  "  said  he  :  "  you  must  be  out  of  your  senses  ! 
Are  you  going  to  feast  my  whole  regiment  ?  "  "  No, 
monseigneur,"  replied  the  cook :  "  only  one  ham  will 
appear  on  the  table  ;  the  rest  are  not  the  less  necessary 
for  my  garniture^  my  blonds^  my "  "  You  are  plun- 
dering me  !  "  interrupted  the  prince,  "  and  this  article 
shall  not  pass."  "  Oh !  my  lord,"  replied  the  indig- 
nant artist,  **you  do  not  understand  our  resources; 
give  the  word,  and  those  fifty  hams  which  confound 
you,  I  will  put  them  all  into  a  glass  bottle  no  higher 
than  my  thumb."     The  prince,  of  course,  gave  way. 

Every  one  knows  the  story  of  poor  Vatel,  the  maitre 
(T hotel  of  Cond^,  as  given  by  Madame  de  S^vignd. 

"  I  wrote  to  you  yesterday,"  says  Madame  de  Sevign^, 
*' that  Vatel  had  killed  himself;  I  here  give  you  the 
affair  in  detail.  The  king  arrived  on  the  evening  of 
Thursday :  the  collation  was  served  in  a  room  hung 
with  jonquils  ;  all  was  as  could  be  wished.  At  supper 
there  were  some  tables  where  the  roast  was  wanting,  in 
consequence  of  the  arrival  of  more  guests  than  had 
been  expected.  This  affected  Vatel.  He  said  several 
times,  *  I  am  dishonored  ;  this  is  a  disgrace  that  I 
cannot  endure.'  He  said  to  Gourville,  ^  My  head  is 
dizzy,  I  have  not  slept  for  twelve  nights  ;  assist  me  in 
giving  orders.*  Gourville  mentioned  the  matter  to  the 
prince  :  the  prince  went  to  the  chamber  of  Vatel  and 
said  to   him,    *  Vatel,    all   is   going  on  well ;  nothing 


156  DINNER   PARTIES. 

could  equal  the  supper  of  the  king/  He  replied, 
*  Monseigneur,  your  goodness  overpowers  me.  1  know 
that  the  roast  was  wanting  at  two  tables/  *  Nothing  of 
the  sort,'  said  the  prince;  *  do  not  distress  yourself; 
all  is  going  on  well.' .  .  .  He  rose  at  four  next  morning, 
determined  to  attend  to  everything  in  person.  He 
found  everybody  asleep.  He  met  one  of  the  inferior 
purveyors,  who  brought  only  two  packages  of  sea-fish  ; 
he  asked,  '  Is  that  all  ? '  *  Yes,  sir.'  The  man  was 
not  aware  that  Vatel  had  sent  to  all  the  sea-ports. 
The  other  purveyors  did  not  arrive  ;  his  brain  began  to 
turn ;  he  believed  there  would  be  no  more  fish.  He 
sought  Gourville  and  said  to  him,  *  I  shall  never  survive 
this  disgrace.'  He  went  up  to  his  room,  placed  his 
sword  against  the  door,  and  stabbed  himself  to  the 
heart.  .  .  .  The  duke  w^ept." 

Cooks  can  no  more  bear  indifference  than  disgrace. 
The  Duke  of  Wellington  once  requested  a  connoisseur 
to  recommend  him  a  good  chef  de  cuisine,  Felix,  with 
whom  the  late  Lord  Seafield  was  reluctantly  about  to 
part  on  economic  grounds,  was  recommended  and  en- 
gaged. Some  months  afterwards  this  connoisseur  was 
dining  with  Lord  Seafield,  and  before  the  first  course 
was  over  said,  *'  So  I  find  you  have  got  the  duke's  cook 
to  dress  your  dinner?"  ''I  have  got  Felix,"  replied 
Lord  Seafield,  "  but  he  is  no  longer  the  duke's  cook. 
The  poor  fellow  came  to  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and 
begged  to  be  taken  back  again  at  reduced  wages,  or 
at  no  wages  at  all,  for  he  was  determined  to  remain  no 
longer  at  Apsley  House.  *  Has  the  duke  been  find- 
ing fault .'' '  I  asked.  '  Oh  no  !  my  lord,'  replied 
Felix ;  *  I  would  stay  if  he  had.     He  is  the  kindest  of 


DINNER   PARTIES.  157 

masters ;  but  I  serve  him  a  dinner  that  would  make 
Ude  or  Francatelli  burst  with  envy,  and  he  says  noth- 
ing. I  go  out  and  leave  him  to  dine  on  a  dinner  badly 
dressed  by  the  cook-maid,  and  still  he  says  nothing. 
Dat  hurt  my  feelings,  my  lord.' " 

The  taste  for  French  cookery  is  fortunately  becom- 
ing more  general ;  and  Soyer,  by  means  of  his  soup- 
kitchen,  has  done  more  good  in  his  generation  than 
many  a  vaunted  philanthropist.  There  is  a  French 
proverb  that  says,  "Z^  soupefait  le  soldat ; ''  and  there 
is  no  doubt  that  if  our  working  classes  would  introduce 
soup  into  their  cuisine,  the  public  physique  would  be 
immeasurably  improved. 

There  is  no  accounting  for  tastes  in  the  matter  of 
dishes.  Dr.  Johnson  preferred  "  a  boiled  leg  of  pork, 
with  the  meat  hanging  in  rags  about  the  bone,  plum 
sauce  with  the  pork,  and  a  veal  pie.''  Lord  Byron's 
favorite  dish  was  boiled  eggs  and  bacon.  The  late 
Lord  Dudley  could  not  dine  completely  without  an 
apple-pie  ;  and  when  dining  at  Prince  Esterhazy's,  was 
terribly  put  out  on  finding  that  his  favorite  delicacy 
was  wanting.  "  God  bless  me  I  "  he  kept  murmuring  to 
himself,  "  no  apple-pie  !  " 

Mr.  Pitt's  great  recreation,  after  the  fatigue  of  public 
and  parliamentary  business,  was  to  steal  into  the  coun- 
try, enter  a  clean  cottage,  and  there  eat  bread  and 
cheese  like  any  ploughman. 

Givers  of  dinners  should  lose  no  time  in  making 
themselves  acquainted  with  all  that  has  been  written  by 
the  great  masters  of  gastronomy.  The  following  golden 
rules  of  Brillat-Savarin  should  be  committed  to  mem- 
ory : — 


158  DINNER   PARTIES. 

"  Let  not  the  number  of  the  guests  exceed  twelve,  so 
th^t  the  conversation  may  be  general.  Letthem  be  so 
selected  that  their  occupations  shall  be  varied,  their 
tastes  similar,  their  points  of  contact  so  numerous  that 
to  introduce  them  shall  scarcely  be  necessary. 

"  Let  the  dining-room  be  superbly  lighted,  the  cloth 
of  exquisite  fineness  and  gloss,  the  temperature  of  the 
room  from  13°  to  16"^  Reaumur  (60°  to  68°  Fahren- 
heit). 

"  Let  the  men  be  cultivated,  without  pretensions ;  and 
the  ladies  charming,  without  coquetry. 

"  Let  the  dishes  be  exceedingly  choice,  but  not  too 
numerous ;  and  every  wine  first-rate  of  its  kind. 

"  Let  the  order  of  dishes  be  from  the  substantial  to 
the  light,  and  of  wines  from  the  simplest  to  those  of 
richest  bouquet. 

"  Let  the  business  of  eating  be  very  slow,  the  dinner 
being  the  last  act  of  the  day's  drama;  and  let  the 
guests  and  host  consider  themselves  as  so  many  travel- 
lers journeying  leisurely  towards  the  same  destination. 

"  Let  the  coffee  be  hot  and  the  liqueur  be  chosen  by 
the  host. 

"  Let  the  drawing-room  be  large  enough  for  a  game 
of  cards,  if  any  of  the  guests  cannot  do  without  it,  and 
yet  have  space  enough  remaining  for  after-dinner  con- 
versation. 

"  Let  the  guests  be  retained  by  the  attractions  of  the 
party,  and  animated  with  the  hope  of  some  evening 
meeting  again  under  the  same  pleasant  auspices. 

"  Let  not  the  tea  be  too  strong ;  let  the  toast  be 
buttered  in  the  most  scientific  manner  ;  let  the  punch 
be  prepared  to  perfection. 


DINNER   PARTIES.  I  59 

"  Let  no  one  depart  before  eleven  o'clock  and  no  one 
be  in  bed  later  than  twelve. 

**  If  any  one  has  been  present  at  a  party  fulfilling 
these  conditions,  he  may  boast  of  having  been  present  at 
his  own  apotheosis." 

A  dinner  need  not  be  costly  to  be  attractive. 
Walker,  in  his  celebrated  "Original,"  observes: 
"  Common  soup  made  at  home,  fish  of  little  cost,  any 
joints,  the  cheapest  vegetables,  some  happy  and  unex- 
pected introduction  (as  a  finely-dressed  crab,  or  a  pud- 
ding)— provided  everything  is  good  in  quality,  and  the 
dishes  are  well  dressed,  and  served  hot,  and  in  succes- 
sion, with  their  adjuncts — will  ensure  a  quantity  of  en- 
joyment which  no  one  need  be  afraid  to  offer." 

Observe,  however,  these  three  little  words,  with  their 
adjuncts.  Herein  lies  the  gist  of  the  sentence  ;  here 
speaks  the  wisdom  of  the  practised  diner.  On  the 
prompt  and  quick  serving  of  these  same  "adjuncts" 
half  the  enjoyment  of  dinner  depends.  How  of^en  an 
excellent  dinner  is  spoilt  by  the  slow  arrival,  or  non-ar- 
rival, of  those  necessary  condiments  without  which 
neither  meat  nor  vegetables  have  their  proper  flavors. 
The  best  beef  is  spoilt  if  it  cools  while  we  are  waiting 
for  the  mustard ;  veal  is  almost  uneatable  if  the  lemon 
has  been  forgotten,  or  the  broiled  bacon  omitted  ;  as- 
paragus, though  served  in  December,  would  cease  to  be 
a  delicacy  if  sent  up  without  melted  butter  and  toast. 
The  mistress  of  a  house  should  never  leave  these  small 
details  to  the  memory  or  judgment  of  her  cook ;  but 
should  order  the  accustomed  "  adjuncts  "  with  each 
dish.  To  know  these  things  is  not  difficult,  and  not  to 
know  them  is  to  shock  the  prejudices  or  disappoint  the 


'l6o  DINNER    PARTIES 

appetites  of  those  who  have  been  accustomed  to  the 
received  routine  of  cookery.  We  have  known  an  ex- 
cellent and  accomplished  lady  so  ignorant  of  these  bye- 
laws  of  cookery  as  to  order  carrots  with  roast  beef  and 
roast  pork,  and  omit  them  with  boiled. 

Small  stands  of  pepper,  mustard,  and  salt  should  be 
placed  to  every  two  guests  at  a  dinner  party,  that  no 
one  may  be  kept  waiting  for  the  means  of  seasoning, 
according  to  his  taste,  the  food  which  has  been  placed 
before  him.  To  permit  one's  servants  to  serve  the 
whole  table  with  any  one  dish  before  they  proceed  to  go 
round  with  the  sauce  or  vegetables  is  simply  to  spoil 
the  enjoyment  of  any  guest  at  the  table.  Servants 
should  make  the  round  of  the  table  in  pairs,  the  sauce 
or  vegetables  being  offered  to  each  diner  immediately 
after  the  meat. 

A  wealthy  man  will  study  to  give  the  best  dinners 
that  money  and  taste  can  provide.  But  money,  let  us 
ever  remember,  is  not  taste  ;  and  though  we  may  grudge 
no  expense  in  order  to  please  our  guests,  too  great  a 
display  of  wealth  and  profusion  is  bourgeois  to  the  last 
degree.  To  provide  everything  that  is  out  of  season 
and  nothing  that  is  in  season,  savors  of  pretension. 
The  common  sense  of  a  good  dinner  is  to  have  things 
when  they  are  early  and  really  at  their  best.  A  very 
choice  and  not  over  sumptuous  dinner  is  ever  the  most 
elegant.  Rare  delicacies  from  a  distance  are  recherM^ 
such  as  canvas-backed  ducks  from  America,  ortolans, 
etc.,  etc. 

Wines  should  always  be  of  the  choicest.  Certain 
wines  are  taken  with  certain  dishes,  by  old-established 
custom — as  sherry,  or  sauterne,  ^vith  soup  and  fish ;  hock 


DINNER   PARTIES.  l6l 

and  claret  with  roast  meat ;  punch  with  turtle  ;  cham- 
pagne with  whitebait ;  port  with  venison  ;  port,  or  bur- 
gundy, with  game  ;  sparkling  wines  between  the  roast 
and  the  confectionery  ;  madeira  with  sweets  ;  port  with 
cheese  ;  and  for  dessert,  port,  tokay,  madeira,  sherry,  and 
claret.  Red  wines  should  never  be  iced,  even  in  sum- 
mer. Claret  and  burgundy  should  always  be  slightly 
warmed.  As  a  rule,  very  choice  wines  should  not  be 
iced  at  all. 

A  decanter  of  wine  or  water  may  be  readily  cooled 
by  folding  a  wet  cloth  about  it  and  placing  it  in  a  cur- 
rent of  air. 

An  admirable  kind  of  wine  jug  has  lately  been  in- 
vented with  an  ice  receptacle  in  the  side,  by  means  of 
which  the  wine  is  even  more  effectually  iced  than  with 
an  ice  pail.  For  champagne  cup,  claret  cup,  or  effer- 
vescing wines,  this  kind  of  jug  is  most  desirable. 

Instead  of  cooling  their  wines  in  the  ice  pail,  some 
hosts  have  of  late  years  introduced  clear  ice  upon  the 
table,  broken  up  in  small  lumps,  to  be  put  inside  the 
glasses.  This  is  an  innovation  that  cannot  be  too 
strictly  reprehended  or  too  soon  abolished.  Melting 
ice  can  but  weaken  the  quality  and  flavor  of  the  wine. 
Those  who  desire  to  drink  wine  and  water  can  ask 
for  iced  water  if  they  choose,  but  it  savors  too  much 
or  economy  on  the  part  of  a  host  to  insinuate  the  ice 
inside  the  glasses  of  his  guests,  when  the  wine  could  be 
more  effectually  iced  outside  the  bottle.  Great  care 
is  necessary  in  decanting  wine,  so  as  not  to  shake  or 
cork  it.  Rare  French  wines  should  be  brought  to 
table  in  baskets,  as  decanting  injures  the  flavor. 

Each  wine  at  the  best  tables  has  its  own  distinctive 


1 62  DINNER   PARTIES. 

glass.  Very  broad  and  shallow  glasses  are  used  for 
sparkling  wines  ;  large  goblet-shaped  glasses  for  bur- 
gundy and  claret ;  ordinary  wine  glasses  for  sherry  and 
madeira  ;  green  glasses  for  hock  ;  and  somewhat  large 
bell-shaped  glasses  for  port. 

While  on  the  subject  of  wines,  it  may  be*  observed,  en 
passant,  that  it  is  considered  very  vulgar  to  say  '^  port 
wine  ''  or  *'  sherry  wine."  In  England  no  well-bred 
person  speaks  oi  either  as  anything  but  "port"  or 
"  sherry."  No  weli-bred  Frenchman,  on  the  other  hand, 
would  speak  of  wines  except  as  "  vin  de  Champagne,'' 
"vinde  Grave,"  *Win  de  Bordeaux."  This  is  one  of 
the  many  instances  in  which  the  good  manners  of  one 
country  are  the  vulgarity  of  another. 

As  there  are,  and  probably  ever  will  be,  a  certain 
number  of  persons  who  cling  to  old  customs,  who  still 
challenge  their  friends  to  take  wine,  and  persist  in  hav- 
ing their  dinners  served  in  the  old-fashioned  manner,  we 
subjoin  a  few  observations  which  would  not  be  applica- 
ble to  dinners  and  dinner  customs  where  the  table  is 
dressed  a  la  Russe, 

The  gentlemen  who  support  the  lady  of  the  house 
should  offer  to  relieve  her  of  the  duties  of  hostess. 
Many  ladies  are  well  pleased  thus  to  delegate  the  dif- 
ficulties of  carving,  and  all  gentlemen  who  accept  invi- 
tations to  dinner  should  be  prepared  to  render  such  as- 
sistance when  called  upon.  To  offer  to  carve  a  dish, 
and  then  perform  the  office  unskilfully,  is  an  unpar- 
donable ^^/^^/^^r/>.  Every  gentleman  should  carve,  and 
carve  well. 

The  soup  should  be  placed  on  the  table  first.  Some  old- 
fashioned  persons  still  place  soup  and  fish  together,  but 


DINNER   PARTIES.  163 

"  it  is  a  custom  more  honored  in  the  breach  than  the 
observance.**  Still  more  old-fashioned,  and  in  still 
worse  taste,  is  it  to  ask  your  guests  if  they  will  take 
"  soup  or  fish."  They  are  as  much  separate  courses  as 
the  fish  and  the  meat,  and  all  experienced  diners  take 
both.  In  any  case,  it  is  inhospitable  to  appear  to  force 
a  choice  upon  a  visitor,  when  that  visitor,  in  all  proba- 
bility, will  prefer  to  take  his  soup  first  and  his  fish  after- 
wards. All  well-ordered  dinners  begin  with  soup,  wheth- 
er in  summer  or  winter.  The  lady  of  the  house  should 
help  it,  and  send  it  round  without  asking  each  individual 
in  turn — it  is  as  much  an  understood  thing  as  the  bread 
beside  each  plate  •  and  those  who  do  not  choose  it  are 
always  at  liberty  to  leave  it  untasted. 

If  the  servants  do  not  go  round  with  wine,  the  gentle- 
men should  help  themselves  to  sherry  or  sauterne  with 
the  soup. 

As  a  general  rule,  it  is  better  not  to  ask  your  guests  if 
they  will  partake  of  the  dishes,  but  to  send  the  plates 
round,  and  let  them  accept  or  decline  them  as  they 
please.  At  very  large  dinners  it  is  sometimes  customary 
to  distribute  little  lists  of  the  order  of  the  dishes  at  in- 
tervals along  the  table.  It  must  be  confessed  that  this 
gives  somewhat  the  air  of  a  dinner  at  an  hotel ;  but  it 
has  the  advantage  of  enabling  the  visitors  to  select  their 
fare,  and,  as  ''  forewarned  is  forearmed,"  to  keep  a  cor- 
ner, as  the  children  say,  for  their  favorite  dishes. 

In  helping  soup,  fish,  or  any  other  dish,  remember 
that  to  overfill  a  plate  is  as  bad  as  to  supply  it  too 
scantily. 

Always  help   fish  with   a  fish-slice,  and   tart    and 


164  DINNER   PARTIES. 

puddings  with  a  spoon,  or,  if  necessary,  a  spoon  and 
fork. 

Asparagus  must  be  helped  with  the  asparagus-tongs. 

In  helping  sauce,  always  pour  it  on  the  side  of  the 
plate. 

We  have  already  said  that  the  habit  of  challenging 
one's  friends  to  wine,  and  of  drinking  toasts,  is  entirely 
disused  in  the  best  society  ;  but,  for  those  who  at  fam- 
ily parties  still  indulge  in  an  old-fashioned  toast  or  sen- 
timent, we  subjoin  a  few  hints  on  the  bygone  etiquette 
of  the  "  wine-taking  "  school. 

If  you  are  asked  to  take  wine,  it  is  polite  to  select 
the  same  as  that  which  your  interlocutor  is  drinking. 
If  you  invite  a  lady  to  take  wine,  you  should  ask  her 
which  she  will  prefer,  and  then  take  the  same  yourself. 
Should  you,  however,  for  any  reason  prefer  some  other 
vintage,  you  can  take  it  by  courteously  requesting  her 
permission. 

Unless  you  are  a  total  abstainer,  it  is  extremely  un- 
civil to  decline  taking  wine  if  you  are  invited  to  do  so. 
In  accepting,  you  have  only  to  pour  a  little  fresh  wine 
into  your  glass,  look  at  the  person  who  invites  you, 
bow  slightly,  and  take  a  sip  from  your  glass. 

It  is  particularly  ill-bred  to  empty  your  glass  on  these 
occasions. 

A  few  more  general  rules,  and  we  have  done. 

If 'you  are  asked  to  prepare  fruit  for  a  lady,  be  care- 
ful to  do  so  by  means  of  the  silver  knife  and  fork  only, 
and  never  to  touch  it  with  your  fingers. 

It  is  wise  never  to  partake  of  any  dish  without  know- 
ing of  what  ingredients  it  is  composed.  You  can  al- 
ways ask  the  servant  who   hands  it  to  you,  and   you 


DINNER    PARTIES.  165 

thereby  avoid  all  danger  of  having  to  commit  the  im- 
politeness of  leaving  it,  and  showing  that  you  do  not 
approve  of  it. 

Be  careful  never  to  taste  soups  or  puddings  till  you 
are  sure  they  are  sufficiently  cool ;  as,  by  disregard- 
ing this  caution,  you  may  be  compelled  to  swallow 
what  is  dangerously  hot,  or  be  driven  to  the  unpardon- 
able alternative  of  returning  it  to  your  plate. 

Peas  are  eaten  with  the  fork. 

Servants  should  not  wait  at  table  in  white  gloves, 
but  with  a  white  dainask  napkin  in  the  hand,  the  end 
of  which  should  be  wrapped  round  the  thumb. 

Glass  wine-coolers,  half  filled  with  water,  should  be 
placed  to  each  cover,  and  the  sherry  glass  placed 
therein — inverted. 

The  lady  of  the  house  should  never  send  away  her 
plate,  or  appear  to  have  done  eating,  till  all  her  guests 
have  finished. 

If  you  should  unfortunately  overturn  or  break  any- 
thing, do  not  apologize  for  it.  You  can  show  your  re- 
gret in  your  face,  but  it  is  not  well-bred  to  put  it  into 
words. 

To  abstain  from  taking  the  last  piece  on  the  dish,  or 
the  last  glass  of  wine  in  the  decanter,  only  because  it 
is  the  last,  is  highly  ill-bred.  It  implies  a  fear  on  your 
part  that  the  vacancy  cannot  be  supplied,  and  almost 
conveys  an  affront  to  your  host. 

To  those  ladies  who  have  houses  and  servants  at 
command  we  have  one  or  two  remarks  to  oiTer.  Every 
housekeeper  should  be  acquainted  with  the  routine  of 
a  dinner  and  the  etiquette  of  a  dinner  table.  No  lady 
should  be  utterly  dependent  on  the  taste  and  judgment 


l66  DINNER   PARTIES. 

of  her  cook.  Though  she  need  not  know  how  to  dress 
a  dish,  she  should  be  able  to  judge  of  it  when  served. 
The  mistress  of  a  house,  in  short,  should  be  to  her  cook 
what  a  publisher  is  to  his  authors — that  is  to  say,  com- 
petent to  form  a  judgment  upon  their  works,  though 
himself  incapable  of  writing  even  a  magazine  article. 

If  you  wish  to  give  a  good  dinner,  and  do  not  know 
in  what  manner  to  set  about  it,  you  will  do  wisely  to 
order  it  from  Birch,  Kiihn,  or  any  other  first-rate  res- 
taurateur. By  these  means  you  ensure  the  best  cook- 
ery and  a  faultless  carte. 

Bear  in  mind  that  it  is  your  duty  to  entertain  your 
friends  in  the  best  manner  that  your  means  permit. 
This  is  the  least  you  can  do  to  recompense  them  for 
the  expenditure  of  time  and  money  which  they  incur  in 
accepting  your  invitation.  "  It  was  a  very  good  din- 
ner," said  Dr.  Johnson,  one  day,  "  but  not  a  dinner  to 
invite  any  one  to." 

"  To  invite  a  friend  to  dinner,"  says  Brillat-Savarin, 
"  is  to  become  responsible  for  his  happiness  so  long  as 
he  is  under  your  roof."  Again,  "  He  who  receives 
friends  at  his  table,  without  having  bestowed  his  per- 
sonal supervision  upon  the  repast  placed  before  them, 
is  unworthy  to  have  friends." 

Never  reprove  your  servants  before  guests.  If  a 
dish  is  not  placed  precisely  where  you  would  have 
wished  it  to  stand,  or  the  order  of  a  course  is  reversed, 
let  the  error  pass  unnoticed  by  yourself,  and  you  may 
depend  that  it  will  remain  unnoticed  by  others. 

To  ladies  who  have  the  happiness  of  being  mothers 
we  would  say.  Never  let  your  children  make  their  ap- 
pearance at  dessert  when  you  entertain  friends  at  din- 


DINNER   PARTIES.  167 

ner;  children  are  out  of  place  on  these  occasions. 
Your  guests  only  tolerate  them  through  politeness; 
their  presence  interrupts  the  genial  flow  of  after-dinner 
conversation ;  and  you  may  rely  upon  it  that,  with  the 
exception  of  yourself  and  your  husband,  there  is  not  a 
person  at  table  who  does  not  wish  them  in  the  nursery. 

With  respect  to  the  general  arrangements  of  a  din- 
ner party,  we  may  quote  this  dictum  of  Paulus  ^milius, 
who  was  the  most  successful  general  and  best  enter- 
tainer of  his  time.  He  said  that  it  required  the  same 
sort  of  spirit  to  manage  a  banquet  as  a  battle,  with  this 
difference, — that  the  one  should  be  made  as  pleasant 
to  friends,  and  the  other  as  formidable  to  enemies,  as 
possible. 

The  duties  of  hostess  at  a  dinner  party  are  not  oner- 
ous ;  but  they  demand  tact  and  good  breeding,  grace 
of  bearing,  and  self-possession  in  no  ordinary  degree. 
She  does  not  often  carve  ;  she  has  no  active  duties  to 
perform  ;  but  she  must  negleet  nothing,  forget  nothing, 
put  all  her  guests  at  their  ease,  and  pay  every  possible 
attention  to  the  requirements  of  each  and  all  around 
her.  No  accident  must  ruffle  her  temper.  No  disap- 
pointment must  embarrass  her.  She  must  see  her  old 
china  broken  without  a  sigh,  and  her  best  glass  shat- 
tered with  a  smile. 

The  duties  of  a  host  are  more  difficult.  Hear  what 
a  modern  writer  has  to  say  on  this  important  subject : — 

"  To  perform  faultlessly  the  honors  of  the  table  is 
one  of  the  most  difficult  things  in  society.  It  might, 
indeed,  be  asserted  without  much  fear  of  contradiction, 
that  no  man  has  as  yet  ever  reached  exact  propriety  in 
his  office  as  host,  or  has  hit  the  mean  between  exerting 


1 68  DINNER   PARTIES. 

himself  loo  much  and  too  little.  His  great  business  is 
to  put  every  one  entirely  at  his  ease,  to  gratify  all  his 
desires,  and  make  him,  in  a  word,  absolutely  contented 
with  men  and  things.  To  accomplish  this,  he  must  have 
the  genius  of  tact  to  perceive,  and  the  genius  of  tinesse 
to  execute ;  ease  and  frankness  of  manner ;  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  that  nothing  can  surprise ;  a  calm- 
ness of  temper  that  nothing  can  disturb  ;  and  a  kindness 
of  disposition  that  can  never  be  exhausted.  When  here- 
ceives  others,  he  must  be  content  to  forget  himself ;  he 
must  relinquish  all  desire  to  shine,  and  even  all  at- 
tempts to  please  his  guests  by  conversation,  and  rather 
do  all  in  his  power  to  let  them  please  one  another. 
Ke  behaves  to  them  without  agitation,  without  affecta- 
tion ;  he  pays  attention  without  an  air  of  protection ; 
he  encourages  the  timid,  draws  out  the  silent,  and  di- 
rects conversation  without  sustaining  it  himself.  He 
who  does  not  do  all  this  is  wanting  in  his  duty  as  host , 
he  who  does  is  more  than  mortaL" 

In  conclusion,  we  have  a  few  words  to  oifer  on  the 
subject  of  menus  in  general. 

For  an  ordinary  dinner  the  following  menu  is  suffi- 
cient ' — One  kind  of  soup,  one  kind  of  fish,  two  entrees, 
a  roast,  a  boil,  two  sweets,  game,  cheese,  ice,  dessert, 
and  coffee. 

For  a  more  ceremonious  dinner — two  soups  (one 
white,  the  other  clear),  two  kinds  of  fish,  and  four  en- 
trees are  necessary. 

Bread  should  be  cut  for  table  not  less  than  an  inch 
thick,  but  rolls  are  preferable. 

Pea-soup,  roast  pork,  and  boiled  beef  are  never  seen 
upon  good  tables. 


DINNER   PARTIES.  169 

Of  all  animal  food,  venison  is  the  most  digestible. 

Entrees  are  those  dishes  which  are  served  in  the  first 
course,  after  the  fish. 

Entremets  are  those  dishes  which  are  served  in  the 
second  course,  after  the  roast. 

The  Earl  of  Dudley  is  reported  to  have  said,  that  *'  a 
good  soup,  a  small  turbot,  a  neck  of  venison,  ducklings 
with  green  peas,  a  chicken  with  asparagus,  and  apricot 
tart,  is  a  dinner  fit  for  an  emperor — when  he  cannot 
get  a  better." 

A  turkey  will  be  much  improved  by  roasting  it  cov- 
ered with  bacon  and  paper.  A  Christmas  turkey 
should  be  hung  from  a  fortnight  to  three  weeks.  A 
guinea-fowl  and  pheasant  are  advantageously  dressed 
together. 

The  Almanack  des  Gourmands  says,  "  A  delicious 
sauce  will  cause  you  to  eat  an  elephant." 

Currie  powder  consists  of  turmeric,  black  pepper, 
coriander  seeds,  cayenne,  fenu-greek,  cardamoms, 
cumin,  ginger,  allspice,  and  cloves.  The  ingredients 
may  be  bought  of  most  seedsmen,  and  with  a  common 
pestle  and  mortar  currie  powder  may  be  prepared  at  a 
cost  of  2d.  per  ounce. 

The  only  secret  of  dressing  vegetables,  so  as  to  pre- 
serve their  fresh  green  color,  is  an  open  saucepan,  plenty 
of  water,  a  proper  quantity  of  salt,  and  fast  boiling. 

Boiled  beetroot,  white  haricot  beans,  and  fried  pars- 
nips are  excellent  accompaniments  to  roast  mutton. 

The  Spanish  proverb  says,  '*  Four  persons  are  wanted 
to  make  a  good  salad :  a  spendthrift  for  oil,  a  miser  for 
vinegar,  a  counsellor  for  salt,  and  a  madman  to  stir  it 
all  up." 


170  DINNER   PARTIES. 

Cheese  taken  at  the  close  of  the  dinner  assists  diges- 
tion. 

Nothing  is  more  generally  wholesome  than  good 
table-beer. 

Pears  may  be  kept  by  tipping  their  stalks  with  seal- 
ing wax. 

Wines  should  vary  with  the  season.  Light  wines  are 
best  in  summer ;  in  winter  generous  wines  are  prefera- 
ble. 

The  custom  of  taking  coffee  after  a  very  late  dinner 
is  bad,  since  its  stimulant  properties  exert  a  power 
destructive  to  sleep. 

Mr.  Walker,  in  his  "  Original,"  says,  "  One  of  the 
greatest  luxuries,  to  my  mind,  in  dining,  is  to  be  able 
to  command  plenty  of  good  vegetables,  well  served. 
Excellent  potatoes,  smoking  hot,  accompanied  by  melted 
butter  of  the  first  quality,  would  alone  stamp  merit  on 
any  dinner ;  but  they  are  as  rare  on  state  occasions  as 
if  they  were  of  the  cost  of  pearls." 


Menus  of  four  choice  dinners,  adapted  to  each  season 
of  the  year : — 

I. 

JANUARY.  (For  ten  persons.) 
Consomm^  soup,  with  quenelles. 
Turbot,  with  Dutch  sauce. 

Two  Removes, 

Braized  fillet  of  veal,  larded  \  la  Chateaubriand. 
Roast  turkey,  with  pur<fe  of  mushrooms. 


DINNER   PARTIES.  171 

For  Entries, 
Oyster  Kromeskys  k  la  Russe. 
Pork  cutlets,  sauce  Robert. 
Partridges  k  la  Prince  of  Wales. 
Supreme  of  fowls  k  la  Macedoinei 

Second  Course. 
Pintail.  Snipes. 

One  Remove, 
Fonda  of  Parmesan  cheese. 

Four  Entremets. 
Salad  k  la  Rachel. 
Vol-au-vent  of  preserved  greengages. 
Plombi^res  cream  iced. 
Braized  celery  with  brown  sauce. 

II. 

APRIL.     (For  eight  persons.) 

Cray-fish  soup. 

Spey  trout,  parsley  sauce. 

Two  Removes, 
Boiled  fowls,  oyster  sauce. 
Glazed  tongue  k  la  jardiniere 

Two  Entries, 
Lamb  cutlets,  asparagus,  peas. 
Boudins  of  rabbits  \  la  Reine. 

Second  Course. 
Lobster  salad.  Green  goose. 


1/2  DINNER   PARTIES.    . 

Four  Entremets, 

Orange  fritters. 
Tapioca  pudding. 
Wine  jelly. 
Potatoes  k  la  Lyonnaise. 

III. 

JUNE.     (For  twelve  persons.) 

Pur^e  of  green  peas,  soup. 
Stewed  sturgeon,  matelotte  sauce. 
Fillets  of  mackerel  k  la  maitre  d'hoteL 

Two  Removes, 

Rost  forequarter  of  Iamb. 

Spring  chickens  k  la  Montmorency 

Four  Entries, 

Fillets  of  ducklings,  with  green  peas. 
Mutton  cutlets  k  la  Wyndham. 
Blanquette  of  chicken  with  cucumbers 
Timbale  of  macaroni  k  la  Milanaise. 

Second  Course. 
Pigeons.  Leveret. 


Two  Removes, 

"lemish  gauf 
Iced  souffle^. 


Flemish  gauffres. 


DINNER   PARTIES.  173 

Six  Entremets, 

French  beans  stewed. 

Mayonnaise  of  chicken. 

Peas  ^  la  Frangaise. 

Peach  jelly  with  noyau. 

Love's  wells  glace  with  chocolate. 

Flave  of  apricots  and  rice. 

IV. 

OCTOBER.     (For  eight  persons.) 

Potage  k  la  Julienne. 

Baked  haddock,  Italian  sauce. 

Two  Removes. 

Braized  neck  of  mutton,  en  chevreuil. 
Roast  pheasant  k  la  Chipolata. 

Two  Entries,. 

Pork  cutlets,  tomato  sauce. 
Curried  rabbit  and  rice. 

Second  Course. 
Roast  blackcock.  Oyster  omelette. 

Four  Entremets, 

Potatoes  k  la  DuchessCa 
Blanc  mange. 
Apple  tartlets. 
Semolina  pudding. 


174  DINNER   PARTIES. 

To  conclude,  we  give  the  menu  of  a  first-rate  Christ- 
mas dinner  : — 

CHRISTMAS  DINNER. 

Turtle  soup. 
Turbot  k  la  Vatel. 
Fillets  of  sole,  k  la  Tartare. 

Three  Removes, 
Roast  turkey,  Perigueux  sauce. 
Braized  ham  k  la  jardiniere. 
Spiced  round  of  beef. 

Four  Entries. 
Marrow  patties. 

Salmi  of  pheasants  k  la  financiere. 
Sweetbreads  k  la  Saint  Cloud. 
Mutton  cutlets  a  la  Vicomtesse. 

Second  Course. 
Woodcocks.  Grouse. 

Mince  pies. 
Plum  pudding. 

Six  EntremHs, 
Broccoli  with  Parmesan  cheese. 
Italian  creams. 
Croute  a  TAnanas. 
Salad  k  la  Rachel. 
Meringues  k  la  Parisienne, 
Punch  jelly. 


ENGAGEMENT   AND    MARRIAGE.  175 

ENGAGEMENT   AND    MARRIAGE    ETIQUETTE. 

Courtship  is  one  of  those  crises  in  the  course  of 
life  when  to  act  by  rule  is  impossible,  and  where  feeling 
and  good  sense  will  prove  one's  best  and  often  one's  only 
counsellors.  No  wise  man  will  weary  a  lady  with  too 
much  of  his  presence,  or  risk  being  regarded  as  a  bore. 
No  well-bred  woman  will  receive  a  man's  attentions — 
however  acceptable — too  eagerly  ;  nor  will  she  carry 
reserve  so  far  as  to  be  altogether  discouraging.  It  is 
quite  possible  for  a  lady  to  let  it  be  seen  that  such 
and  such  di pr^tendant  is  not  disagreeable  to  her  without 
actually  encouraging  him.  It  is  equally  possible  for  a 
man  to  show  attention,  and  even  assiduity,  up  to  a 
certain  point,  without  becoming  a  lover.  No  man  likes 
to  be  refused,  and  no  man  of  tact  will  risk  a  refusal. 
Unless  the  lady  is  false,  or  a  downright  coquette,  a 
man  ought  always  to  be  able  to  judge  whether  he  will 
be  favorably  heard,  before  he  ventures  upon  his 
offer. 

With  regard  to  the  manner  of  the  offer,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  offer  advice  ;  all  must  depend  on  circumstances. 
Is  the  lover  nervous  or  not  nervous  ?  Has  he  a  per- 
suasive tongue  ?  Does  he  speak  well  under  trying 
circumstances  .>  Has  he  a  good  manner  ?  an  agreeable 
person  ?  If  he  possesses  these  qualifications,  he  will  do 
well  to  make  his  offer  in  person.  If,  on  the  contrary, 
he  is  bashful,  or  labors  under  any  defect  of  speech,  or 
is  likely  to  break  down,  or  is  not  prepared  to  take  a 
refusal  gracefully,  or  in  any  way  mistrusts  his  own  tact 
and  presence  of  mind,  he  had  far  better  entrust  his 
cause  to  his  pen. 


1/6  ENGAGEMENT   AND    MARRIAGE. 

The  man  who  makes  an  offer  of  marriage  must  always 
remember  that  he  is  a  petitioner.  Unequal  marriages 
are  most  unadvisable  ;  but  be  the  lady  ever  so  inferior 
in  birth,  in  fortune,  or  in  position,  the  lover  must  still 
bear  in  mind  that  he  is  asking  for  her  liberty,  her 
obedience,  her  life-companionship,  herself.  He  must 
ask  with  humility  and  receive  with  gratitude. 

We  suppose  him  accepted.  His  conduct  as  a  fiance 
must  be  tender,  assiduous,  unobtrusive.  He  must 
evince  the  utmost  respect  towards  every  member  of  the 
lady's  family.  He  must  by  rio  means  act  as  if  he 
considered  himself  already  a  member  of  that  family,  or 
venture  upon  being  in  any  w^ay  unduly  familiar.  He 
must  for  the  present  content  himself  with  the  position 
of  a  devoted  friend  only ;  testifying  interest  in  all  that 
concerns  the  welfare  of  the  family  to  which  he  hopes  to 
unite  himself,  and  losing  no  opportunity  of  rendering 
them  any  service  that  may  lie  in  his  power. 

All  airs  of  mastership,  all  foolish  display  of  jealousy, 
should  be  avoided.  Lovers'  quarrels  are  as  earnestly 
to  be  dreaded  and  deprecated  as  the  quarrels  of  hus- 
bands anH  wives,  or  brothers  and  sisters.  Quarrels 
cannot  but  impair  mutual  respect  and  diminish  love. 
The  lady,  on  the  other  hand,  must  not  be  exacting  or 
capricious ;  must  not  flirt  with  others ;  must  not  be 
too  demonstrative  ;  and  must  never  find  fault  without  a 
cause.  Both  should  remember  that  they  are  in  the 
first  stage  of  what  is  to  be  a  lifelong  friendship,  and 
should  manifest  the  utmost  degree  of  mutual  candor, 
confidence  and  sympathy. 

It  must  surely  be  unnecessary  to  hint,  that  no  ap- 
proach towards  familiarity  must  ever  be  indulged  in. 


ENGAGEMENT    AND    MARRIAGE.  1 77 

The  most  perfect  reserve  in  courtship,  even  in  cases  of 
the  most  ardent  attachment,  is  indispensable  to  the 
happiness  of  the  married  Hfe  to  come.  All  public 
displays  of  devotion  should  be  avoided.  They  tend  to 
lessen  mutual  respect,  and  make  the  actors  ridiculous 
in  the  eyes  of  others.  It  is  quite  possible  for  a  man 
to  show  every  conceivable  attention  to  the  lady  to 
whom  he  is  engaged,  and  yet  to  avoid  committing  the 
slightest  offence  against  delicacy  or  good  taste. 

Ladies  should  remember  that  nothing  takes  the 
bloom  so  completely  off  a  man's  admiration,  as  untidi- 
ness in  the  woman  he  loves.  A  lady's  dress  should  he  at 
all  times  exquisitely  clean  and  neat.  He,  on  his  side, 
should  be  chivalrously  conformable  to  her  tastes,  giv- 
ing up  smoking  or  any  other  habits  to  which  she  may 
object:  and,  above  all  things,  paying  no  undue  at- 
tentions to  other  women. 

The  gentleman  presents  the  lady  with  a  ring  as  soon 
as  they  are  engaged.  If  her  parents  permit  her  to  ac- 
cept many  presents,  the  lover  will  not  fail  to  surround 
her  with  tokens  of  his  devotion  :  if,  however,  this  habit 
is  not  encouraged,  he  can  spend  as  much  money  as  he 
pleases  in  offering  her  flowers  of  the  rarest  and  cost- 
liest kinds.  These  she  can  always  accept  and  he  may 
always  offer.  A  sensible  man  will  not  give  more 
presents  than  he  can  justly  afford. 

It  is  the  lady's  privilege  to  fix  the  wedding  day. 

The  marriage  settlement  is  an  important  point.  No 
parent  or  guardian  should  allow  his  child  or  ward  to 
marry  without  having  a  part  of  her  fortune  secured 
upon  herself.  The  young  Tady  may  be  over-generous, 
but  her   advisers  will  do  well  to  act  upon/  their  own 


178  ENGAGEMENT   AND    MARRIAGE. 

judgment  in  this  matter.  It  is  quite  as  advantageous 
to  the  husband  as  to  herself,  since,  in  case  of  unlooked- 
for  loss  or  misfortune,  there  is  a  sure  provision  for  his 
vi^ife  and  children.  Professional  men,  clerks,  com- 
mercial travellers,  and  all  that  numerous  class  of  men 
who  are  dependent  upon  their  health  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  their  family,  are  in  duty  bound  to  insure  their 
lives  for  the  benefit  of  their  survivors. 

To  return  to  the  marriage  settlement.  An  allow- 
ance for  the  lady's  dress  and  pocket  money  should 
always  be  made,  and  so  administered  that  the  wife  will 
not  have  to  ask  for  it  in  season  and  out  of  season,  but 
receive  it  as  promptly  as  if  it  were  a  dividend. 

Special  licenses  are  no  longer  de  rigueur.  The  cere- 
mony is  generally  performed  by  ordinary  licence, 
either  in  the  parish  or  some  fashionable  church.  In 
country  places,  persons  of  the  highest  rank  are  often 
married  by  banns. 

The  trousseau  should  be  in  accordance  with  the 
means  of  the  bride.  It  is  preposterous  for  ladies  of 
middle-class  rank  and  limited  means  to  provide  them- 
selves with  showy,  useless  outfit ;  and  in  all  cases  a 
bridal  trousseau  should  consist  less  of  dresses,  bonnets, 
and  things  of  ephemeral  fashion,  than  of  linen,  laces, 
French,  Indian,  or  Cashmere  shawls,  jewellery,  and  the 
like. 

The  bridesmaids  may  be  from  two  to  twelve  in 
number.  The  bride's  sisters,  and  the  bridegroom's 
nearest  female  relations,  should  be  bridesmaids  if  pos- 
sible. A  very  young  lady  should  have  bridesmaids  of 
her  own  age,  but  a  bride  who  is  no  longer  in  her  girl- 
hood should  chose  bridesmaids  who  will  not  make  her 


ENGAGEMENT  AND   MARRIAGE.  1 79 

look  old  and  ugly  by  comparison.  The  bridesmaids 
may  wear  veils,  and  should  always  be  dressed  in  white 
trimmed  with  delicate  colors.  Except  at  very  large  wed- 
ding breakfasts,  it  is  customary  to  invite  only  relatives 
and  very  intimate  friends  to  the  dejeuner.  In  the 
former  case,  invitations  on  printed  cards  are  sent  out 
by  the  bride's  parents  or  guardians. 

The  French  bridal  costume  is  much  simpler  and 
prettier  than  the  English,  and  we  should  be  glad  to  see 
it  imitated.  It  consists  of  a  dress  of  white  tulle  over 
wtoe  silk,  a  long  veil  of  white  tulle  reaching  to  the  feet, 
and  a  wreath  of  maiden-blush  roses  interspersed  with 
orange  blossoms.  In  England  rich  lace  is  worn  over 
white  satin  or  silk,  and  the  veil  is  generally  of  costli- 
est lace. 

Widows  and  ladies  of  middle  age  are  married  in 
bonnets.  The  bridegroom  wears  elegant  morning 
dress,  light  trousers,  a  dark  blue  frockcoat,  and  a 
colored  neck-tie.  Nothing  black  is  admissible  at  a 
wedding. 

The  order  of  going  to  church  is  as  follows: — The 
bridesmaids  and  members  of  the  bride's  family  set  off 
first ;  the  bride  goes  last  with  her  father  and  mother, 
or  with  her  mother  alone,  and  the  relative  who  is  to 
represent  her  father  if  he  be  dead  or  absent.  The 
bridegroom,  bridesmaids,  and  "  best  man,"  ought  to  be 
waiting  in  the  church.  The  father  of  the  bride  gives 
her  his  arm  and  leads  her  to  the  altar,  where  the  clerk 
arranges  the  rest  of  the  party. 

The  ^'  best  man"  should  distribute  the  different  fees 
to  the  clergyman,  the  clerk,  and  the  pew-opener,  before 
the  arrival  of  the  bride.     The  bride  stands  to  the  left 


I80  ENGAGEMENT  AND    MARRIAGE. 

of  the  bridegroom,  and  takes  the  glove  off  her  left  hand, 
whilst  he  takes  the  glove  off  his  right  hand.  The  bride 
gives  her  glove  to  her  bridesmaids  to  hold.  Perfect 
self-control  should  be  exhibited  by  all  parties  during 
the  ceremony :  nothing  is  more  undignified  than  exhi- 
bitions of  feeling  in  public.  People  who  have  no  self- 
control  had  better  remain  at  home. 

After  the  ceremony  comes  the  signing  of  the  register. 
There  must  be  no  kissing  in  the  vestry,  as  in  former 
days.  The  bride  quits  the  church  first  with  the  bride- 
groom, and  they  drive  away  together  in  his  carriage  ; 
the  rest  follow  in  their  own  carriages. 

The  bridegroom  should  be  liberal  in  his  fees,  if  he 
can  afford  to  be  so.  A  rich  man  may  give  any  sum  to 
the  officiating  clergyman,  from  one  hundred  dollars  to  five 
hundred;  the  usual  fee  is  fifteen  dollars.  For  people  of 
moderate  means,  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  dollars  is  ample. 

The  breakfast  should  be  supplied  by  a  first-rate  con- 
fectioner, and  the  table  should  be  as  beautiful  as 
flowers,  plate,  glass,  and  china  can  make  it.  The  ordi- 
nary menu  of  a  wedding  breakfast  is  as  follows  : — Tea, 
coffee,  wines,  cold  game  and  poultry,  lobster  salads, 
chicken  and  fish  k  la  Mayonnaise,  hams,  tongues,  pot- 
ted meats,  game  pies,  savory  jellies,  Italian  creams, 
ices,  and  cold  sweets  of  every  description. 

Before  the  healths  are  drunk,  the  wedding  cake 
should  be  cut  and  handed  round. 

The  order  of  the  healths  is  as  follows  :— 

The  oldest  friend  of  the  family  proposes  the  health  of 
the  bride  and  bridegroom. 

The  bridegroom  returns  thanks  for  himself  and  wife, 
and  proposes  the  health  of  the  bridesmaids. 


ENGAGEMENT  AND    MARRIAGE.  l8l 

The  "  best  man  "  returns  thanks  for  the  bridesmaids. 

The  same  old  friend,  or  another,  proposes  the  health 
of  the  bride's  parents. 

The  father  of  the  bride  returns  thanks,  and  proposes 
the  health  of  the  bridegroom's  parents. 

The  bridegroom's  father  returns  thanks. 

Other  toasts  are  optional :  the  health  of  the  officiat- 
ing clergyman,  however,  if  he  be  present,  should  not  be 
forgotten. 

When  the  breakfast  comes  to  an  end,  the  bride  re- 
tires, and  the  company  repair  to  the  drawing-room.  At 
a  wedding  breakfast  gentlemen  do  not  remain  behind  to 
drink  wine.  The  bride  departs  on  her  wedding  trip  in 
elegant  morning  dress. 

Fees  to  servants  must  depend  upon  circumstances. 
From  a  rich  bridegroom  large  sums  are  expected,  but 
from  persons  of  moderate  means  extravagant  fees 
would  be  out  of  place.  The  bridegroom  usually  pre- 
sents each  bridesmaid  with  some  elegant  trinket,  which 
should  be  the  best  of  its  kind.  No  distinction  should 
be  made  in  these  gifts.  The  bridegroom  usually  pre- 
sents the  bride  with  some  useful  and  costly  article. 

Where  the  circle  of  friends  on  both  sides  is  very  ex- 
tensive, it  has  of  late  become  customary  to  send  invita- 
tions to  such  as  are  not  called  to  the  wedding  feast, 
to  attend  the  ceremony  at  church.  This  stands  in 
place  of  issuing  cards.  When  this  rule  is  observed,  it 
is  usual,  in  notifying  the  marriage  jn  the  newspapers,  to 
add  the  words  "  No  cards." 


1 82  ETIQUETTE   FOR   FUNERALS. 

ETIQUETTE    FOR    FUNERALS. 

As  the  saddest  of  all  events,  death,  calls  for  the  sym- 
pathy of  relatives  and  friends,  there  are  certain  forms 
to  be  observed  out  of  consideration  for  the  mourners 
and  respect  for  the  occasion. 

It  is  customary  to  intrust  the  details  of  the  cere- 
mony to  some  relative  or  near  friend,  who  will  proceed 
to  make  all  the  necessary  arrangements,  thus  relieving 
the  members  of  the  family  from  many  painful  discussions 
and  interviews.  Should  there  be  no  one  to  attend  to 
the  matter,  the  whole  arrangement  should  be  placed  in 
the  hands  of  the  undertaker. 

The  expenses  should  depend  upon  the  position  in 
life  of  the  deceased  person,  or  the  means  of  the  sur- 
vivors. The  arrangements  for  the  funeral  should  be 
such  as  to  show  proper  respect  for  the  dead,  rather 
than  a  pompous  display,  denoting  vulgarity  and  osten- 
tation ;  on  the  other  hand,  illiberality  or  meanness  in 
expenditure  is  to  be  avoided. 

If  invitations  are  issued,  the  following  form  is  cus- 
tomary, either  written  or  printed  on  note  paper,  edged 
with  black,  the  envelope  to  correspond : 

Yourself  and  family  are  respectfully  requested  to 
attend  the  funeral  of 

Mr.  Joseph  L.  Elliott, 
from  the  residence  of  his  mother,  Mrs.  Mary  Elliott,  on 
Thursday  27th  inst.,  at  two  o'clock. 

Interment  at  Greenwood. 

No.  27 Ave 

Oct,  24th. 


ETIQUETTE   FOR   FUNERALS.  183 

The  director  of  the  ceremonies  should  have  a  list  of 
the  invited  guests  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  to  be 
placed  in  the  carriages. 

Should  no  invitations  be  issued  the  notice  in  the 
newspapers  should  read  "  without  further  invitation." 
In  this  case  no  especial  order  is  requisite  for  the  plac- 
ing of  the  guests,  who  simply  follow  in  the  carriages 
after  the  members  of  the  family. 

Guests  should  not  present  themselves  at  a  funeral 
before  the  hour  appointed,  the  family  paying  their  last 
sad  visit  to  the  coffin  previous  to  that  hour,  when  all 
intrusion  upon  them  is  a  breach  of  good  manners. 

The  remains  are  usually  exposed  in  the  parlor, 
while  the  family  congregate  in  another  room.  As  the 
period  approaches  for  the  last  visit,  the  undertaker  will 
notify  the  family,  who,  after  paying  the  last  respects  to 
the  remains,  will  immediately  return  to  the  apartment 
from  which  they  issued,  remaining  there  until  the  close 
of  the  ceremony. 

In  case  of  the  services  being  held  in  church,  the  re- 
mains are  placed  in  front  of  the  chancel,  the  lid  re- 
moved, and  the  friends  (at  the  end  of  the  service)  will 
pass  from  the  feet  to  the  head,  up  one  aisle  and  down 
another. 

Should  the  funeral  take  place  at  the  house,  it  is 
proper  that  some  relative  not  immediately  connected 
with  the  family  of  the  deceased  should  receive  the 
guests  and  do  the  honors  of  the  occasion. 

As  the  ladies  of  the  family  are  not  expected  to  see 
the  guests  at  such  a  time  no  one  should  take  offence  at 
being  refused  admittance  to  their  privacy  ;  in  fact  it  is 
not  customary  to  see  the  family  before  the  funeral,  but 


1 84  ETIQUETTE   FOR   FUNERALS. 

cards  can  be  sent,  and  services  offered  by  note.  As  to 
the  gentlemen  of  the  family,  it  is  optional  with  them. 

Ladies  attending  a  funeral,  if  not  in  mourning,  should 
dress  in  grave,  quiet  colors. 

Gentlemen  should  remove  their  hats  on  entering  the 
house  and  not  replace  them  while  there,  and  should 
conversation  ensue,  let  it  be  in  low  grave  tones ;  loud 
talking  or  laughing  shows  disrespect  for  the  dead  and 
slight  consideration  for  the  grieving  family. 

All  quarrels  or  ill  feeling  between  individuals  meet- 
ing at  a  funeral  should  be  forgotten,  and  all  such,  more 
especially  in  the  presence  of  death,  are  bound  by  the 
common  usage  of  society,  if  not  by  feeling,  to  salute 
each  other  with  a  quiet  gravity. 

The  privilege  of  following  the  remains  to  the  grave 
is  denied  the  ladies  of  the  house  by  strict  etiquette. 

After  the  services  the  clergyman  leaves  the  house 
first  and  enters  the  carriage  (which  must  be  sent  in  time 
for  him  to  be  at  the  house  at  the  appointed  hour)  pre- 
ceding the  hearse. 

Then  follow  the  remains  ;  the  next  carriage  is  for  the 
family  and  relations,  and  while  the  mourners  are  pass- 
ing the  visitors  should  uncover. 

The  undertaker  must  precede  the  family  as  they 
pass  to  their  carriage,  open  the  door,  assist  them  in, 
then  closing  the  door,  motion  to  the  driver  to  move 
forward,  while  the  next  carriage  advances,  and  so  on 
until  all  those  guests  who  intend  following  the  remains 
to  the  grave  are  seated. 

The  same  order  is  to  be  observed  at  the  church,  where 
the   undertaker  or  director   of  ceremonies  assists  the 


ETIQUETTE   FOR   FUNERALS.  1 85 

mourners  to  leave  and  re-enter  the  carriages,  the  visit- 
ors following  after. 

It  is  left  for  the  family  decision  as  to  flowers  :  for 
children,  pure  white,  and  for  adults,  white  and  purple, 
ivy,  pansies,  etc. 

When  arrived  at  the  cemetery  the  clergyman  walks 
in  advance  of  the  coffin,  while  the  guests  assemble 
around  the  grave. 

In  returning  from  the  funeral  it  is  optional  with  the 
visitors  as  to  returning  to  the  house  •  each  may  direct 
the  driver  where  to  convey  him. 

Should  the  family  physician  attend  the  funeral  he 
should  be  seated  in  the  carriage  immediately  following 
that  of  the  family. 

The  nearest  friends  of  the  deceased  are  designated 
as  pall-bearers,  should  such  arrangement  be  determined 
upon. 

And  for  young  people  the  pall-bearers  should  be 
such  of  their  young  friends  as  they  most  associated  with 
while  living. 

People  in  deep  mourning  are  not  expected  to  pay 
visits  of  condolence,  neither  can  they  accept  funeral  or 
other  invitations  ;  but  all  those  out  of  mourning  should 
never  hesitate  in  responding  by  their  presence  to  an  in- 
vitation of  this  kind. 

In  the  purchase  of  the  necessary  mourning  for  the 
ladies  of  the  family  an  intimate  female  friend  or  near 
relative  is  the  proper  person  to  attend  to  it,  and  for 
that  of  the  gentlemen,  a  male  friend  or  near  relative. 

Cards  for  the  family  should  be  left  during  the  week 
following  the  funeral,  and  calls  can  be  made  on  mem- 
bers of  the  same  a  fortnight  later. 


I86  ETIQUETTE   FOR   FUNERALS. 

In  the  interval  of  the  death  and  burial  no  female 
member  of  the  family  should  leave  the  house  upon  any 
pretext  whatever. 

Should  the  deceased  have  belonged  to  a  society,  the 
members  of  such  order  should  be  invited  through  a 
note  sent  to  the  president  of  the  order,  who  will  arrange 
with  the  director  of  the  ceremonies  as  to  any  special 
forms  the  said  society  or  order  would  like  to  have  ob- 
served, if  agreeable,  always,  to  the  family,  and  should 
the  notice  of  such  death  be  published  in  the  newspapers 
the  name  of  the  lodge,  society,  or  other  order  to  which 
the  deceased  may  have  belonged  should  be  carefully 
specified. 

It  is  not  customary,  neither  is  it  proper,  to  send  invi- 
tations to  attend  the  funeral  of  one  who  has  died  of  a 
contagious  disease ;  a  simple  notice  of  the  death,  and 
the  statement  "  funeral  private,"  is  all  that  is  required, 
and  will  be  readily  understood. 

When  visiting  a  cemetery  never  stand  and  stare  at 
mourners  assembled  in  a  lot,  neither  in  any  way  notice 
those  who  may  be  decorating  the  graves  of  fiiends. 


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Burden's    Dutch   Diakct  Recita- 
tions and  Readings. 

Being  No.  1  of  the  Burdeit  Series  of  Recitations  andlleadings.  This  col. 
lection  of  amusing  and  laugrhable  Kecitations  embraces  all  the  newest  and 
most  successful  pieces,  original  and  selected,  with  which  the  celebrated 
Reader,  Jas.  S.  Burdett,  invariably  "  brings  down  the  house,"  besides  a 
host  of  other  Dialect  Selections  in  general  use  by  other  leading  Public 
J  Headers  of  the  present  day. 

aoisrTE:isrTS. 

Barbara  Frietchle 

Betpey  und  I  Hafe  Bust  Ub 

Charge  of  de  "  Dutch  Brigade,"  The 

Deitsche  Advertisement 

Dem  Ole  dimes  Habblness  and  dem 
New 

Der  Baby 

l)er  Dog  und  der  Lobster 

Der  Drummer 

Der  Good  Lookin'  Shnow 

Der  Moon 

Der  Mule  Shtood  on  der  Steamboad 
Deck -.... 

Der  Nighd  Pehind  Grisdmas 

Der  Schleighride 

Der  Wreck  of  der  Hezberus 

Dhree  Skaders 

Don'd  Feel  Too  Big 

Dot  Funny  Leetle  Baby 

Dot  Lambs  vot  Mary  Haf  Got 

Dot  Leedle  Loweeza 

Dot  Loaf  of  Bread 

Dot  Shly  Leedle  Raskel 

Dot  Surprise  Party 

Dot  Young  Viddow  Clara 

Dutchman's  Experience 

Dutchman's  Dolly  Varden,  A 

Dutchman's  Telephone,  A 

Dutchman's  Testimony  in  a  Steam- 
boat Case,  A 

Dutchman  and  the  Raven,  The  .... 

Dutch  Recruiting  Officer,  A 

Dutch  Sermon,  A 

Dutchman's  Serenade,  The 

Dutchman's  Snake,  The - 

Dutchman  and  the  Yankee 

D^in'  Vords  of  Isaac 

Em  Deutsches  Lied 

Fine  Old  Dutch  Gentleman,  The  . . . 

Fritz  und  I 

German  Speech  of  Hcrr  Hans  Yager, 
The 

Go  Vay,  Becky  Miller,  Go  Vay 

Gosling's  Wife  Snores •.  .. 

Hans  Breitmann  and  the  Turners.. 

Hans  and  Fritz 

Hans  in  a  Fix 

Han's  Midnight  Excuses 

Hans  Sourcrout  on  Signs  and  Omens 

Home  Again 

How  a  Dutchman  was  Done 

How  Hans  Yager  Enjoyed  the  Opera 

In  a  handsome  illustrated  cover. 


How  Jake  Schneider  Went  Blind  , , 

How  **  Sockery  "  Set  a  Den 

How    the    Dutchman    Killed    the 

Woodchuck 

Initiated  as  a  Member  of  the  United 

Order  of  Half -Shells 

Isaac  Rosenthal   on   the    Chinese 

Question  

I  Yash  So  Glad  I  Vash  Here 

Jew's  Troubles,  A 

Katrina  Likes  Me  Poody  Well.-..,. 

Katrina's  Visit  to  New  York 

Life,  Liberty  and  Lager 

Lookout  Mountam,  1863— Beutelsh- 

bach, 1880 

Little  Yawcob  Strauss 

Maud  Muller 

Marriage  Ceremony,  The , .  =  . . 

Mine  Katrine 

Mine  Shildren 

Mr.  Schmidt's  Mistake 

Mygel  Snyder's  Barty 

Oration  on  :he" Labor"  Question,. 

Overcoat  H    Got,  The 

Pretzel's  Speech  Before  the  *llinois 

Assembly- 

Romeo  and  .ulie    

Schlausheimer's  Alarming-Glock . . 
Schlausheimer  Don't  Gonclliato  ... 

Schlosser's  Ride 

Schneider's  Ride 

Schnitzel's  Philosopede 

Schneider  Sees  Leah 

Schneider's  Tomatoes 

Shake's  Telephone 

Shoo  Flies 

Shonny,  Don'd  You  Hear  Me  ? 

Shonny  Schwartz 

Snyder's  Nose 

Sockery  Kadacut's  Kat 

Teachinsr  Him  the  Business 

Temperance  Speech 

Tiamonds  on  cfer  Prain 

To  a  Friend  Studying  German 

Touching  Appeal,  A 

•'  Two  Tollar^' 

Vas  Bender  Henshpecked     

Yawcob's  Losing  Deal 

Yankee  and  the  Dutchman's  Dog, 

The 

Yoppy  Varder  unt  Hees  Droubles.. 

Zwei  Lager 

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Qeriqaan  at  a  Glance. 

A  new  system,  ou  the  most  simple  principles  for 
ITnlversal  Self-Tiiittbn  wiili  English  pronunciation  of 
eveiy  word.  By  this  :fv.vtom  any  person  can  become  pro- 
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jA  new  system  for  Self-Tuicion^  arranged  the  sami^ 
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luirino  '\.  "-h*-  oui.  U  kuovvieuge  uf  the  Spanish  language. 
(Rev'sed  j'Jdition.) 

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